


Fault Lines to Your Own Front Door

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, The Academy Is...
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-03-31 03:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3963574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's one thing to fall in love with a girl. It's another thing completely to fall in love with your best friend's sister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fault Lines to Your Own Front Door

Mike glances up as the front door opens. As soon as he realizes it’s Courtney, he sneers. He’s not short, but having to look up at someone younger than him pisses him off. “Bill here?”

“Why hello to you too, Mike Carden. Aren’t we so lucky that you’ve chosen to grace us with your presence.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“He’s at the dentist.” She stands there, blocking the door.

“Will he be home soon?”

“No.” She has the same damn smirk as her brother, which means Mike should find it irritating as hell. Instead he keeps staring at her. She returns the favor, looking bored. “So you can leave.”

“I’ll hang.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to hang.”

“Maybe I don’t care. Bill told me to come by, so I did. So I’ll hang.” Mike crosses his arms over his chest, holding her gaze. 

“Only Bill could find friends _more_ annoying than he is.” She moves out of the way enough that he can get inside. “Don’t touch anything.”

Mike brushes past her and heads to the living room, glancing around before sitting in the middle of the couch. He can see the irritation flash across Courtney’s face, and he smirks in response. She glares at him, wrinkling her nose as she walks past him to one of the chairs. She picks up her ever-present camera. “What is it with you and that thing?”

“It’s called a _camera_. Do we need another vocabulary lesson, neanderthal?”

He flips her off. “Fine, what is it with you and that _camera_?”

“None of your business.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He grabs the latest _Sports Illustrated_ from the coffee table. It looks new, so he looks at the table of contents to see what he can read just to piss Bill off. 

“I’m going to be a photographer.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I _am_.”

“Just because you carry a camera around all day doesn’t mean you’re a photographer.”

“Yeah, well, just because you slap a guitar doesn’t mean you’re a musician.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Well, you’re a dick.” She snaps a picture of him, the flash bright in his eyes. “I don’t know why Bill puts up with you.”

“The only reason he puts up with you is because he doesn’t have any choice.”

“You do. Go away.”

“No.”

She takes another picture, the flash momentarily blinding him.

“Stop it.”

“No.” She snaps another shot and Mike throws the magazine at her. Courtney bats it away and it falls on the floor between them. Mike leans in to grab it, and she takes another picture. “Goddamn it!” He reaches for the camera, grabbing at air as she jerks it away. “Stop it, Courtney.”

“No.” She puts her feet on the cushion and boosts herself up onto the back of the chair, moving out of his reach. “Go away.”

“No.” He grabs at her wrist, trying to keep her from using the camera. She slaps at him with her free hand and jerks back, overbalancing and starting to tip back over the chair.”

“Stop _hitting_ me.” He catches her free hand, clamping his fingers around her wrist and holding on. He pulls her forward to keep her from falling. “Jesus, woman.”

“Let go of me!” She jerks her hand back and overbalances again. Mike grabs her around the waist and she falls to her knees on the cushion, her body pressed against his. 

“Fuck, Beckett.” Mike snaps his head up, eyes wide. “You’ve got _tits_.”

“No shit, asshole.” She tries to get away, but he tightens his grip. “Let go.”

“Since _when_ do you have tits?”

“Get _off_.” She shoves him and he can feel himself falling. He puts out a leg to catch himself, but it slips against the _Sports Illustrated_. He goes down hard, hitting his head on the edge of the coffee table. Courtney follows him down, falling on her knees beside him. “Oh shit. Shit, Carden. Shit.”

“I’m not dead.” He tries to sit up, but she puts a hand on his chest to keep him flat on the floor. “Let me up.”

“No. What if you have a concussion or something? Or are bleeding internally?”

“The only thing I’m bleeding on right now is your mom’s carpet, so let me sit up.” He shoves her hand off of him and sits up, swaying slightly as his eyes cross and the room decides to take a sharp dip to the left. Courtney catches him and lets him lean against her, her fingers gently working their way across the back of his head. He’s about to say something that he’s sure will be sarcastic even though her fingers feel amazing, when she touches something that sends an explosion of pain through his head. He thinks he groans, and he’s sure that the room throws him up against a wall like something out of a horror movie or something.

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.” Courtney’s voice echoes through his head, and he can feel her breath warm against his skin. He focuses on that, on her, and blinks, even though his eyelids suddenly feel like they’re weighted down with elephants. “I’m sorry, Mike. God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please don’t die. Please don’t die.”

“’m not dying.” He lets his head fall to the side, and he can feel the sharp bones of her shoulder. Damn Becketts are built like skeletons, all bones and hard angles instead of curves and soft skin, even though he can feel Courtney’s throat where his forehead is pressed against it, and she feels soft. Warm and soft and she smells good. “Just not going to move for a while.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You’re just such a dick.” Her hand slides up and down the length of his spine and Mike presses closer, turning his head slightly so he can feel the skin of her neck against his mouth. Courtney shivers and her pulse jumps.

Mike laughs softly. “I am a dick.” 

“I know.” Mike can see her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks as she closes her eyes. “I should get you some ice for your head.”

“Why’d you take my picture?” Her skin flushes red and he can feel the heat of it. He presses his lips against her pulse point, feeling it flare to life against the tip of his tongue. “You like looking at me, Court?”

“F-fuck off.” Her voice trembles, but she doesn’t shove him away. Mike shifts, the weight of his body guiding her onto her back on the floor. The _Sports Illustrated_ is half hidden by her hair, and he can hear the paper slide beneath her. His head pounds as he moves over her, knees on either side of her thighs, and his arms holding him braced above her. “M-m-mike.”

“Shit, Court.” He leans in, his arms trembling and wanting to give way so he can press up against her. “Shit.”

She lifts her head from the floor, her eyes closing as she gets nearer. He tilts his head to meet her kiss when he hears the front door open, and the sound of Bill’s voice drifts down the hall. “Fuck.” She whispers and shoves him off of her, slamming him into the coffee table again while she scrambles to her feet and out of the room.

By the time Bill hits the living room, Mike’s got the magazine in his hand and is lying on his stomach leafing through it. He can’t parse a single word, and he’s not sure if his head or his dick is throbbing harder. He glances up at William, whose mouth is stuffed with cotton. He looks like a chipmunk on a rampage. “You’re in no shape to sing.” He gets to his feet, hiding his hard on with the magazine. “Okay. I’ll come back another time. See ya.”

He dodges around him and down the hall to the door, stuffing the _Sports Illustrated_ into the mail slot and hurrying away.

**

“Bill’s not here.”

Mike shoves his foot between the door and the jamb so she can’t shut it on him. Bill’s at a show Mike should be at, but instead he said he was sick and came over to see Courtney. She’s babysitting her younger siblings, and he knows he’s walking into either a bad teen comedy or a horror movie. “I know.”

“So go away.” She pushes the door against his foot, and he really hates that she and Bill have that stupid wiry strength. 

“No. I want to talk.”

That shocks her enough that she lets go of the door, and he sidles inside, shutting it behind him. The hallway is lit by a single light, the cover over the bulb giving it a golden glow that reminds Mike of the 70s. “Bullshit.” She whispers the last half of the word, which is how he knows the younger kids are still awake. He’d hoped to time this so that he caught her mostly alone, but that’s not the case now. The nice thing is that everyone knows him, so no one’s going to say shit about him being at the house. 

“I do.”

“About what? We have nothing to talk about. You’re Bill’s...”

He shuts her up by pinning her to the wall and kissing her. He doesn’t mean to do it, except he does, because it’s all he’s been thinking about for a week and a half now. He’s been jerking off to the thought of kissing her, the thought of feeling her pressed against him, and even when he tries to think of Playboy playmates or movie stars or whatever, all he sees is her ridiculous face, her eyes wide as she stares up at him, her lips parted like she’s ready for him.

There’s a sudden sound, and Mike starts, breaking the kiss and staring at Courtney. Her eyes are just like they were before, just like he pictured them. A stupid swirl of colors like brown and green and blue and yellow with the pupils dilated wide. He glances behind him, but there aren’t any kids in the hallway, so he realizes that one of them made the noise. She blinks and swallows hard, her tongue darting out and wetting her lips. “Oh,” he whispers, more to himself than to her, and kisses her again, closing his eyes as her lips ease apart for him, her tongue tentative against his.

The noise is from him, something low and aching that he’s never heard or felt before. He recognizes it when it happens again and doesn’t let it distract him, the sound muted by their kiss even more this time. He brings his hand to her throat, curving his fingers around to the back of her neck, his thumb moving in a slow line against her jaw. Her mouth opens more, like he’s hit some magic button, and she presses against him, wrapping her arms around his waist, long fingers splaying across his back. 

“Courty! Levi hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit me.”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“I...” Courtney blinks at Mike and licks her lips. He bites his own lower lip to keep from biting hers and takes a step back. “I’m ba-babysitting.”

“Yeah. I could...” He glances toward the hallway where Levi and Alexandra are still arguing and then down at his erection which is not something he wants to explain to anyone ever. “I’m gonna...” He gestures at the door and then pulls back, blushing as Courtney’s eyes drop to his crotch. Her mouth is pink and swollen when it opens, like she’s going to say something, and he slaps his hand over her mouth quickly. “Don’t talk. If you talk I’m gonna...I gotta go.”

“Bedtime’s nine-thirty.”

He nods and ducks out the door as a wail goes up from the living room. He can hear Courtney as he stops on the porch to breathe, and he stays there for a minute, listening to her, watching her through the curtain as she picks each of the kids up under an arm and plops them down in chairs on either side of the room. Glancing at his watch, he groans and thumps his head on the support post. It’s only eight-fifteen. “Fuck.” 

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he heads for home, wondering how many times he can jerk off in the next hour.

**

She opens the door before he can knock, putting a finger to her lips. “They just went down, so they’re probably not asleep yet,” she whispers, glancing back over her shoulder. “We probably shouldn’t...” 

He kisses her again, different this time. It’s softer, stranger. Something that Mike feels thick in his chest and throat as her mouth opens underneath his. He reaches out and shuts the front door, sliding the chain into the lock. She lets him maneuver her, pressing her to the door while he secures it, moving into him as he pulls back. “Want...fuck. I want to...” He keep his voice low, and he can feel her shiver as his words fan across her skin. “Living room, okay?”

She nods and swallows hard, slipping past him to guide the way. Mike catches her hand and holds onto it. Courtney starts but doesn’t let go, leading him into the living room. The _Sports Illustrated_ is still on the coffee table, smoothed out from the mangling he’d given it. There’s a crease in someone’s face, and some of the pages aren’t aligned right, sticking out from the edge of the cover. Courtney sits down, pressed right against the arm of the couch. Mike sits in the middle, leaving some room between them, and stares down at their joined hands.

“They’re usually asleep by ten.” Her voice is soft, and she not looking at him, her gaze on their hands as well. Mike opens his hand and shifts it slightly, fitting his fingers between hers. He sees and hears Courtney’s breath catch, and he pulls his arm back, tugging her closer. She moves toward him and Mike grabs her free arm, guiding her onto his lap. He has to bite his tongue at the feel of her against him, and he lets go of her hand to settle his palm against the curve of her hip.

“We should be quiet then.”

She nods, looking down at him, her eyes focused on his mouth. Mike licks his lips and Courtney’s breath hitches, her lips parting again. He feels powerful, watching her watch him. He rubs her upper arm then brings his hand up to the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair, and pulls her in. She doesn’t resist at all, goes willingly, exhaling as she presses into him, her mouth fitting against his.

Mike loses track of time, of everything except the feel and taste of her. His arm moves behind her waist, tugging her closer so that her body is pressed closer to his. She makes a sound when she feels the bulge of his dick, but he swallows it in a kiss. His other hand slides under the hem of her shirt, his hand flat against her back, rubbing along her spine when she arches into him. He can feel her against his erection, her body hot as she wriggles on his lap, grinding down against him. She whimpers under her breath, and he knows she’s close to the edge, he can feel it radiating off of her like she’s giving off sparks of too much, of need more.

He knows the second she loses control because she cries out, her whole body shaking. He holds her closer and doesn’t stop kissing her, his hand pushing harder on her back, holding her down against him. She breaks the kiss, breathing roughly, and looking at him with wide eyes. Mike presses his lips together to keep quiet and pushes his feet against the floor, his hips rising so he can rock into her. His vision grays out and he comes, his own breath stuttering as he shakes his way through it.

He rests his head on Courtney’s shoulder, inhaling the baby powder scent of her. “You okay?” He knows he’s whispering, but his voice is loud in his ears. He keeps stroking her back, feeling each shuddery exhale against his palm. “Court?”

“I should...you should...” She stops talking, frowning like she can’t remember her words. After a moment she moves, sliding off of his lap, pressing against his hands until he lets her go. He can see her legs tremble as she balances herself by grabbing the arm of the couch. “You should...go. You. Go. Yes. Should. Get out.”

He glances at his lap, the wetness that’s darkening his jeans. “Courtney...”

“Go.” Her voice breaks and she shakes her head. “Please.” 

He stands up and reaches out to her and she turns, bolting up the stairs. Mike watches her go. Not exactly the reaction he expected, but then he’s not sure what he really _did_ expect. He just got off on the couch with his band mate’s sister. Well, if nothing else, at least he’s given Bill a _reason_ to hate him.

He leaves, digging at his jeans to get them away from his skin, making sure to lock the door behind him.

**

Mike knows that, despite how it seems, Courtney is probably not everywhere he looks. Or at least not more than she used to be. She still shows up at band practices and takes pictures, working on learning to adjust her ISO and Fstop, to play with light and movement. She alternates between the 35mm and the digital she got for her last birthday, and manages to be equally annoying with each. Mike used to be able to ignore her, just pretend she wasn’t there or was just another obstacle to be avoided while practicing, like Sisky.

Now it feels like he _can’t_ avoid her. She’s taking Bill away from singing to ask him a question, or she’s leaning over Big Mike’s shoulder to take a picture of the dust flying off the drums, or she’s bending down, her shorts riding up her thighs, as she changes cameras or lenses or whatever it is that she’s doing. He wants to tell Bill to make her leave, but everyone considers her their mascot, so he knows that’s not going to happen, and he doesn’t really want her to go. He wants everyone else to go so that he can be alone with her, hold her again. Kiss her again. Feel her shake and tremble and come again.

“Fuck.” His string snaps and he can feel the sting as it whips back and slices along his forearm. The bad thing about fucking up on music is that he can’t throw the guitar across the room when he’s pissed off or frustrated, so he kicks the guitar stand instead. Blood is leaking in a slow trickle down his arm, but he ignores it as he tugs off the guitar and digs in his case for his strings.

The flash catches the corner of his eye and he whips his head around. Courtney’s kneeling on the floor beside him, taking pictures of the bead of blood. It’s curving along his bicep, and she keeps snapping photos. Mike drops the string and wipes the blood away, smearing it on his skin. Courtney doesn’t stop, still taking pictures of the red stain on his arm. 

“Cut it out.” He snarls the words and she lowers the camera to look at him. She’s different behind it, distant and outside of things. She blinks and she’s there again, her lips parting as she looks at him. “Stop taking pictures of me. Jesus. Bill, can’t you _do_ something about her?”

He knows he pisses Bill off with that, because Bill’s more protective of Courtney than anything else, but Mike can live with that. He can even live with the painful expression on Courtney’s face as she moves away from him. “Court, maybe...”

“Yeah.” She moves back over to her cameras, packing them up quickly and quietly. Mike can feel the rest of the band glaring at him. He ignores them and changes his string, and when he turns around to play again, she’s going out the door.

“You’re an asshole, Carden,” Sisky informs him, like a dog biting his master.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Adam.” Mike tunes the string and strums it, ignoring Bill’s look. “Let’s get this practice over now that we can concentrate, okay?”

Practice is fucked, of course. They only make it through a couple of songs before AJ and Adam and Big Mike are huddled near the drums, looking warily from him to William. It’s always “Season” that gets them, they’ve been arguing about it since they started writing, but Mike’s sick of playing the same old songs and wants to work on the new stuff. Big Mike’s mom had called him a control freak, and he admits it. He wants them to look good, sound good. Be good.

He knows Bill feels the same way because they've spent enough time talking about what they want and how they're going to get it. It matters to both of them enough that they've fought with each other tooth and nail over each of the new songs they've come up with for the album.

“Look, let's do this. We're not going to get anywhere being all pissed off because I was mean to Bill's sister. Besides, unless you're secretly fucking her, Bill's the only one who has a right to be upset about me being a dick, so can we make some fucking music?”

As far as motivational speeches go, it sucks, but they all at least try. It’s another hour before they finally pack it in, and the song sounds halfway decent, which means it’s only halfway awful. He packs up his guitar and amps, ignoring Beckett as much as humanly possible. He can feel Bill watching him, but if there’s one thing Mike’s excellent at, it’s avoidance. 

“If you’ve got a problem with me, you take it out on me, not Courtney.” William’s voice is flat and emotionless, but Mike can hear something beneath it, that threat of _family_ “And if you ever suggest my sister is sleeping around again, I’ll rip your balls off and shove them in your eye sockets before I beat the shit out of you.” He pauses and Mike looks over at him. There’s nothing even close to a smile on Bill’s face. “Got it?”

Nodding, Mike hefts his guitar case. “Got it. Now you tell your sister to keep her goddamned camera out of my face.”

“She’s practicing, just like we are.”

“Well, I didn’t sign up to be her fashion model.”

“No chance of that.” Bill grabs his things. Mike can see the tension radiating off him in waves. “And don’t worry. I’m sure Courtney’s got all the asshole shots she could ever need.”

Mike can’t help but laugh. “Dude, that sounds gross.”

Bill doesn’t laugh, and Mike waits until Bill’s long gone before he starts home.

**

Every year on the last weekend of summer, right before school starts, Bill’s family always hauls everyone out to the lake. Bill and Courtney and the rest of the half-siblings and step-siblings – Becketts and otherwise invited. Even though Sisky’s the only one still officially in school, Bill invites the band along since he’s going to be gone and there’s not much they can do without him.

Mike goes along because he’s not working and it’s sweltering in the city, the streets feel hot enough to melt to the bottom of his shoes and suck him into the tar. That’s the only reason. Not because he and Bill haven’t said anything that wasn’t related to the band in the past couple weeks since the blow up at the studio. And definitely not because Courtney doesn’t come to practices anymore, so he doesn’t see her. Which is fine.

The van is loud, everyone singing along with the local radio station, the one where they know some of the DJs because they hit the clubs with them, so they play Midtown and The Stereo and Fall Out Boy and sometimes, usually late at night, they’ll play Bill’s Remember Maine stuff or sneak on one of The Academy’s songs. Mike watches out the window, watching the city give way. The Beckett station wagon is ahead of them, and there’s another car, one of Courtney’s friends who’s old enough to drive, following the van. Mike shifts on his seat and looks behind them, watching the girls in the front seat. They’re both laughing and he can’t see Courtney, but he sees the sunlight flash off the camera lens, and he knows she’s there, taking pictures of her friend’s toes on the dash or tanned skin and coral-colored nails.

“Be nice to her today.”

Mike turns his head quickly, surprised at Bill’s voice. “What?”

“I’m serious. Be nice to Court, or I’ll drown you and let the crabs eat your skin.”

“This violent streak of yours is really kinda creepy.” Mike shifts again, looking back toward the front of the van. “Maybe you should see a professional.”

“Maybe you should watch your mouth around my sister.” He looks away from Mike then, leaning over the seat to talk to Adam and Jason. Mike sticks his tongue out and puts his headphones in his ears, listening to the recorded guitar tracks he’s been working on. He has every intention of ignoring Bill and Courtney and everyone else. He’s going to work on his music and enjoy the sun until it’s too hot to bear anymore, and then he’s going to dive into the lake until he can hear something other than his blood pounding in his ears.

He’s at the back of the van, so by the time he gets out, the girls are out of their car and walking past him. Adina is two years older than Courtney, and she’s wearing a bikini that makes AJ’s eyes bug out of his head. She walks like she knows they’re watching, tits bouncing in the skimpy bra. The other four girls are wearing more modest outfits, Karen in a hot pink bikini, but she’s covered up with a t-shirt and Georgia doesn’t seem to be wearing a bathing suit at all under her baggy shorts and shirt. Joanie’s wearing a one-piece, and Courtney’s got on cut off jean shorts that curve around her ass and one of Bill’s Midtown shirts. There’s a rip in the collar from the night there was a huge fight in the pit. Mike can see the sharp line of her collar bone and his teeth ache for a minute with the urge to bite it.

He doesn’t mean to catch up, but he ends up right behind them, catching snippets of their conversation. Georgia’s giving Adina shit about flirting with Bill, which is something she’s been doing since she was younger than Courtney, and Karen’s hanging onto Courtney’s arm, giggling about some guy named Jeff that sits behind Courtney in American History. He can see ink marks on her arms, pokes from the pen, sentences written along the curve of her elbow, asking her for her number. He can practically picture some high-school punk thinking he’s so suave and cool. Mike’s got an overwhelming desire to punch the fucker.

Once they get to the water, the groups break up. Courtney ends up with her younger siblings, shedding her jean shorts and t-shirt for a red one-piece that reminds Mike of the school swim uniforms, and makes his shoulders ache with the desire to plow through the water. The rest of the band starts to act younger than the kids, flirting and showing off for the girls. Jason does fancy dives and Adam cannonballs and the rest of the guys lay on the hard-packed sand near them, telling jokes and drinking sodas, being disgusting. Mike glances at Courtney and then at his guitar, leaving it propped against one of the picnic tables. He sheds his jeans and shirt, his swim trunks feeling strange after years of Speedos, even though he hasn’t worn them for ages. He wades into the water, the shock of cold sending goosebumps in flight over his skin.

Courtney glances up as Mike goes by, her pale legs visible through the water, stirred up with sand and silt as he goes by. She doesn’t say anything and looks away quickly, but Mike can see her shiver, and he knows it’s not from the cold. Her skin is smooth, but her nipples are hard against the thin fabric of her suit. He wants to drag her under the water, kiss her until neither of them can breathe. “Beckett.”

He hears her hiss, “Asshole,” under her breath right before he dives in, pushing through the water for several meters before he comes up for air, swimming hard and strong out to the float. The rest of the guys take notice of him out there and leave the girls behind, Jason first then Bill, Adam and big Mike, with AJ in the rear, obviously pissed off at leaving Adina behind.

They dive and swim and lay out in the sun, watching the girls from behind sunglasses as they glint with lotion and oil. Eventually Bill’s dad waves them in to eat, and they all swim in. Mike feels good, the sun sunk into his bones. Bill swims beside him, long and gangly and horrible form. Mike matches his pace, wading in the last five or so feet. Bill gets sidetracked by his little brother, and Mike ends up walking up onto the beach with Courtney. He reaches out and traces the ink on her elbow. “He’s an asshole.”

“Being the expert, I guess you’d know.” She doesn’t even bother to look at him. She jogs ahead, her long hair falling out of the loose bun she has it pulled up in, some of the ends wet and clinging to her skin. Water runs down his legs and he squeezes out the bottom of the trunks, making small puddles around his toes.

Courtney surrounds herself with her girlfriends and they sit at the other end of the table, laughing about stuff that has nothing to do with the rest of the guys. Bill's dad and step-mom take the kids back to the car, hauling them home while Adam and Jason go off to gather wood while Adina helps Bill and AJ dig out a fire pit. Mike's pretty sure she's just showing off her tits and ass, bending over and digging with her hands. 

Georgia rolls her eyes as she sits next to Mike on the top of the picnic table. “You should play something. Let us hear the next single.”

Mike rolls his eyes, but he tugs the guitar out of the case, settling it against him. “You like guitars?” When she shrugs, Mike strums his fingers across the strings and then starts playing a wandering melody. “Is Courtney dating that guy in her class? The one Karen was giving her shit about?”

Georgia's eyebrows lift. “Beckett? Seriously.”

“Just asking. Someone should warn the dude that Bill's likely to rip his nuts off if he goes near Court, that's all.”

“Well, I heard you don't give a shit. You think she's just a pain in the ass and that she sleeps around.”

“I never said that.” He strikes a wrong note on the guitar and he can see Bill glance over at him. He shakes his head and sets his guitar aside on the table between him and Georgia. “I just got pissed.”

“Yeah, well, now she's pissed, so I guess that all evens out.” She slips off the table and heads toward where they're building the fire, the first tendrils of smoke rising up from the dry wood. Mike puts the guitar back in its case and gets off the table as well, moving over to the dock where Courtney's sitting, her feet in the water as she takes pictures of the setting sun.

“I need to talk to you.”

She looks at him, her gaze flat and hard. “We don't have anything to say. And I haven't taken a picture of you all day, so fuck off.”

He glances back to make sure no one's watching them the places his hand on the deck between them, fingers brushing her thigh just beneath the shorts she pulled back on. The wisps of white cotton tickle his fingers, and he sees her skin prickle with his touch. His voice feels rough in his throat. “I want to kiss you.”

Her eyes spark with light from the fire and she jumps off the dock and wades back to the shore, the flames reflecting off the water on her legs. Mike curses under his breath and follows her toward the bathrooms. The sun's pretty much down and the night's closing in around them in bruised purple colors. Mike nearly trips over a root, but he manages to recover and catch up, grabbing Courtney's arm before she can disappear into the restroom.

“Wait, god damn it.”

“No.”

He growls and thrusts a hand in her hair, letting the wet mass settle between his fingers as he pulls her in and kisses her hard. He feels the bite of her teeth, and it just makes him groan, opening his mouth over hers. Courtney pounds her fist against his shoulder for a moment, and then slides her hand around his neck, nails digging into his nape as she kisses him back. “Fuck,” he breathes, kissing again, tangling their tongues together. His free hand finds her hip, slipping under the faded t-shirt to her skin of her back. “Oh, fuck yes.”

Mike shifts closer, guiding her around the corner so they're hidden from view. He's been in enough club bathrooms to ignore the smell wafting through the open door, and the florescent light shines halos in Courtney's eyes when she blinks them open and looks at him. He takes the camera from her and puts it on the wall above her. When she reaches up for it, protesting, he slides both hands up her sides, under her shirt. She shivers and drops her arm, not far enough to impede him pushing the Midtown logo up to her neck, exposing the round curve of her swimsuit's neckline. “W-wh-what are you...”

He leans in, closing his mouth over her breast. The fabric is slightly damp, tasting of lake water, but underneath is the heat of her, the hard press of her nipple against his tongue. He feels her shake, her knees giving way slightly. He moves his hand to her other breast, rolling the nipple between his finger and thumb. Courtney makes a noise in his mouth, something between a groan and a whimper and Mike can't help pressing closer, sliding his leg between both of hers. “Fuck, Court. God, just want to...” He curves a finger over the neckline of her swimsuit and tugs it down until the soft curve of her breast is free of the fabric. “Oh, god, yes.”

She makes another noise when his mouth closes over her again, his teeth and tongue finding her nipple, teasing and playing with it, sucking until it's a hard pebble against his tongue. Her hands are both tangled in his hair, holding him closer and tugging at the same time, like she's not sure if she should push him away or not. He releases her other breast and pushes her shirt until her arms are free, and then he slides the straps of her swimsuit down to expose her to her waist.

“Fuck, look at you. So fucking beautiful. Fuck, baby.” He moves to her other breast, closing his mouth over the pale skin, desperate to make it as red and swollen and wet as the other. Courtney whimpers, bucking against his thigh, grinding down against him. Mike scrapes his thumbnail over her exposed nipple and he can feel it contract from the sensation as well as the night air. Courtney arches into him, her hair scratching against the concrete wall.

It's too much, and Mike can't stop. Can't stop his mouth moving on her, can't stop his teeth from testing sensitive skin, from biting and sucking and scraping. His hands support her, his mouth making a meal of her. The sounds she's making make his cock ache, something desperate and needing, his name in a hoarse cry that's like begging. The sounds stop suddenly, her silence accompanied by the taut stretch of her body and then cascade of trembles that shudders through her as she comes. Mike keeps tasting her, sucking her nipples as her body curves away from him and the skin stretches until she cries out and collapses forward against him.

He can feel her nipples through his t-shirt, feel them hard and hot on his chest as she lays in the loose circle of his arms. He wants to rut against her thigh, bring himself off in a sticky mess. Instead he strokes her back slowly, whispering her name against her hair. After a moment or two, her shaking turns to shivering, and he can feel the cold seeping into her skin. “Hey. Hey. Let's take care of you, c'mon.”

She pulls back and looks like she's drugged, her eyes hazy and lidded. Fuck. Mike wants to fuck her so much it _hurts_. He pats her hair into something resembling her normal ponytail, smoothing down the thick swathes of it he pulled from the holder. She pulls her swimsuit up, gasping as the firmer fabric of the neckline scrapes across her breasts. Mike can see red marks from his mouth, his teeth on her skin above the material. He groans and kisses her, swallowing her gasp as he takes her by surprise.

“Marked you up, Court.”

Mike leans her back against the wall as he looks around for her shirt, brushing the dirt off of it. He holds it out to her and Courtney presses it against her chest. 

“You’re going to want to put that on. It…” He reaches out and barely brushes his fingers along the collar of her suit. She jerks back from his touch and Mike frowns. “It shows.”

She nods jerkily and fumbles to get the shirt over her head. He’s careful not to touch her again as he reaches up to get her camera.

“Give me a minute and I’ll walk you back.” His erection flagged when she pulled away from him, but he’s not quite ready to face the rest of the guys. Courtney nods, holding tightly to her camera strap. Mike exhales and adjusts himself. “Fuck. Are you okay?” He knows he doesn’t sound nice or…anything she deserves. “I mean…”

“I’m okay. Her voice is soft. “I…you keep m-making me out o-of control.”

Mike laughs softly and rests his forehead against the wall, turning just enough to look at her. “I’m out of control too, Court.”

“You don’t seem like it. You seem…”

He catches her hand and rubs it on his thigh before sliding it over to curve around his cock. She makes a noise in her throat, and her fingers contract slightly, tightening on him. “Oh fuck.” He hardens in her grip, and she squeezes him again tentatively still, but enough that Mike groans. “I’m not in control either.”

“I do that to you? It’s not just me?”

“No. Not just you.” He assures her through gritted teeth as his hands curl into fists against his thighs as he tries not to thrust into her hand.

*

Hook-ups necessitate switching up the rides home, which is how Mike ends up in the seat next to Courtney in the back of Adina’s car. He’s in the middle between her and Georgia, his knees up by his chest. Courtney’s ignoring him, but it’s impossible to ignore her, since every bump on the rutted road seems to rub her seatbelt against her sensitive breasts and she’s biting back the little noises she keeps making, but Mike can hear them loud and clear. He’s pretty sure Georgia can hear it too if the looks she keeps tossing in Courtney's direction are any indication.

The ride home takes forever, and Mike’s half hard by the time they get let out at her parent’s house where his car is. Courtney scrambles out and grabs her stuff out of the trunk, heading for the house before Mike even manages to clear the door. He lets her go, not willing to cause a scene when he knows her friends are paying attention to them. As soon as they drive off, he leans against his car, watching the door as she unlocks it.

“Court?”

“Go home, Mike.”

“When can I see you again?”

“You’re not going to.”

“We need to talk before we end up seeing each other in front of a bunch of people, your brother.” He jiggles the keys in his pocket. “We get to each other.”

“We can keep that from happening.” She opens the door slightly and darts a quick glance at him. “Goodnight.”

“You’re all marked up. Aching from what we did.” He grips the door behind him, holding onto the handle as her eyes widen, slightly panicked. “That doesn’t go away.”

“The marks will fade.”

Mike nods. “Yeah. But the marks aren’t what I’m talking about.” He opens his door and gets in the car. “Night.”

**

They ramp up practices after that when networking and begging manage to score them a few gigs in local clubs. Mike’s a task master when they practice, not letting anyone leave until he’s satisfied with the sound. He calls a few friends and he and Bill both call in more than a few favors and there’s a good chance they’ll have a decent turn out. They’re in Mike’s uncle’s garage and everyone else has left, taking advantage of Mike’s approval of the last run-through they did. Bill’s sitting on a box of car parts, frowning down at his notebook.

“What?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing. It went well.” He jots something down, another lyric or maybe just a note to himself. He’s constantly tweaking how they do things, how he sounds. It drives Mike crazy. “About the gig.”

“Don’t even think about canceling it, Beckett, or I will fucking kill you.”

“Cancel? What? No. Shit. No.” He shakes his head and closes his book and gives Mike a look. “Why would we cancel?”

“I don’t know. You’ve got that weird look on your face.”

“I have a weird look on my face because I have to deal with you.” He scratches the bridge of his nose and blows out a rough breath. “Courtney’s going to be there.”

“Oh. Oh. Yeah. Well.”

“Taking pictures.” He holds Mike’s gaze. “She wants to work on action photography and she has every right to be there, so you’re just going to have to suck it up.”

“I’ll be busy playing. Not like I’m going to jump off the stage and steal her camera.”

“She might do some before and after stuff. Promo stuff. So…just be nice, okay? She was weird when you jumped down her throat and she’s been even weirder since the lake. So be nice. Be… _don’t_ be yourself.”

“Fuck you. I’m a nice guy.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Not to girls.”

“You’re an asshole to everyone. You’re just _less_ of an asshole when there’s a possibility of getting laid. Which does not, in any way, apply to my little sister. So just be less of a dick. Or don’t talk to her at all. Do as your told, pose how she tells you, and keep your mouth shut.”

“You know you’re just the lead singer, right? You’re not actually any kind of boss or anything.”

“Or we could just pay for promo shit.”

“Yeah, yeah. Right. Be nice to Courtney. Got it. Jesus.” Mike kicks a loose screw across the garage floor. “You know she's got a thing for one of the guys in her American History class, right?”

“So?”

“So. I just thought, you know, you're Mr. Protective of her.”

“Yeah, well, a guy her own age doesn't bother me.”

“Oh really?” Mike snorts a laugh. “You don't remember what _we_ were like when we were her age?” William doesn't say anything, but Mike can tell he's thinking about it. If he were _really_ an asshole, he'd say something about smoke coming out of Bill's ears, but instead he just shrugs. “I mean, I'm sure the dude's nice and doesn't think about sex or anything at all. Probably a Mormon and only wants to stare into her eyes and shit.”

“My sister doesn't have sex.”

“Right. That's what I'm saying. She's staying on the straight and narrow. I'm sure Jeff's not interested in what's up her shirt at all. Not trying to get her in a dark corner by the back lockers and get his hand down her pants.”

“Okay, shut up. Just...just shut up. God, this is my _sister_ we're talking about, asshole.” William shoves his notebook in the pocket of his jacket and stands up, grabbing his guitar case with way more force than is necessary. Mike manages not to smirk, because if Bill thinks any of this is Mike being up to something, he'll jerk so hard the other way, Courtney will be married off before Mike can say he's kidding. “Jeff who?”

“Ask her friends, man. I don't know. I just heard them talking about how he was all over Courtney in American History.”

“I gotta go.”

“Right.” Mike smiles as Bill ducks out the side door of the garage into the night. “Later, dude.”

**

Of course, ruining Jeff's chances at Courtney doesn't actually improve Mike's, but he figures no competition is better no matter what. He doesn't actually know anything about dating, since all he's ever done is get girls drunk and then have sex with them. Not that he and Courtney are dating. Or could date. But apparently there are things he's supposed to do to impress her and make her not run the other way when they're alone.

He sits at the island in the kitchen and drops his head on the counter, sighing loudly. His mom ignores him, so he sighs again at least twice before she smacks him on the back of the head with a wooden spoon. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Whatever it is you think you're doing. I've got dinner to make and your dad needs some sort of pot luck dish for work, so I don't have time for your nonsense. Either spit it out or suck it up and go to your room.”

“What happened to loving and caring and all that?” Mike sits up and rubs the back of his head. “I'm, like, fruit of your looms or whatever.”

“Loins, and fruit rots.” She smiles at him and moves to the stove. “So what is it? A girl?”

“What? No! What? No. No. No. Not a girl. Why would you say that?”

“Because you're sitting here looking at me like I have all the answers, and that means there's a girl involved.”

“I've never come to you about a girl before.”

“I know.” She pours herself a cup of coffee and takes a sip before adding a spoonful of sugar and sipping it again. “Which makes me think this girl must be special, since you're coming to an expert.”

“You're an expert on girls?”

“Well, I don't know if you know this, bud, but I am one. Or was one. Now I'm just your mother, but when I was your age...”

“I don't want to hear it. Shush.” He slaps his hands over his ears and shakes his head. “No. No stories that start that way. It's bad enough that I heard you and dad that one time and...” He makes a gagging noise. “Scarred for life.”

“So you don't want advice then.”

“No. I mean, no. I do. She's...she's a nice girl. And, I mean, I like the not-nice things about her, but I don't know how to deal with both sides. Like, we were friends, but now we're not friends, because I kind of want to...” He stops when his mom slaps her hand over his mouth.

“If I can't say it, you sure as hell can't say it.”

“She’s different.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. Different. Not...not like other girls. Not...I mean, other girls come to watch us play and, like, get with the band, you know?”

“No. I didn’t know. In fact, pretty sure I didn’t _want_ to know about girls wanting to get with band members. Especially your band. Adam Siska is _sixteen_.”

“Well, not _Adam_. Ew. People don’t have sex with Adam. He’s a kid.” Mike frowns, doing his best not to think about the fact that Courtney’s the same age as Adam. But girls are different, he’s pretty sure. 

“So she doesn’t come and watch you play to...what was it? ‘Get with you’?”

“No. Mom.” He blows out a breath. “She’s different. She...Ugh.” He drops his head onto the counter again. “I like her.”

“That’s not actually a bad thing, Michael.”

“But it is. Because she’s...she’s...”

“If you say too good for you, I will slap you even harder with the spoon. No girl is too good for my son.”

“She is really good though. Like smart and beautiful and she doesn’t put up with anyone’s shit, especially mine.”

“Language.”

He rolls his eyes. “She doesn’t. And she makes my head hurt and my chest hurt and I want Bill to write songs about things like...things that aren’t things I want Bill to sing about.” Exhaling roughly, he looks at his mom. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Ask her out on a date.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s off limits. And I don’t date people. And she’s...She’s got...she’s just not someone I can date. If I dated. Which I don’t.”

“You like her. Does she like you?”

Mike puts his thumb to his mouth and chews on the ragged nail. “I don’t know. It’s like ‘go away’ and then it’s like...we’re kissing, and then she’s pushing me away again. And she makes me want to argue with her for hours and then make up, you know? Like...like a challenge.”

“But she’s not someone you can date. Why? The real reason. Because you’ve never let anything stop you from getting what you want. Ever. You fight like hell for it. So tell me what’s so special about this girl that you can’t date her.”

“You’ll find out tonight.” He sucks the edge of his thumb when a piece of skin comes off and it starts to bleed. “She’ll be there. And you’ll see.”

“Oh, I can’t wait.” She tosses a kitchen towel at him. “But since you reminded me, I have a lot to do before your show, so wash the dishes so I can make the casserole.”

“I don’t live here anymore. You can’t boss me around.” He gets off the stool as he says it, moving toward the sink.

“Then you’re not sticking around for dinner. Roast beef and potatoes and carrots and onions and garlic bread.”

“If you’re going to be like that.” Mike glares at her and turns on the water before smiling. “Fine.”

**

The dressing room isn’t large enough to fit all of them. It’s not even large enough to fit Bill and Sisky, and they’re almost the size of a normal person if you put them together. Mike’s standing with his back against the wall, staring out the door as Courtney peers into the room. Her eyes seem to skate over Mike like he’s not even there. “We should go out into the alley.”

AJ snickers and starts to say something, stopped by a glare from Bill. “Yeah. Okay. Alley photo shoot in the dark.”

Courtney flips him off and leads the way. Mike pushes off the wall and brings up the rear, his hands clenched into fists as he glares at the back of AJ’s head. As much as he wants to, he can’t punch him or they’re not going to be able to play their show, so he settles for dirty looks all the way outside. Courtney directs them against the wall without looking at Mike or talking to him. He’s almost impressed. Her step-dad is already out there, holding a makeshift light powered by the car battery in his hand.

It’s weird to watch her, because she acts like a professional instead of a sixteen-year-old. She tells her step-dad where to stand and she’s deliberate about everything she does. It kind of freaks Mike out a little, and it also turns him on. He’s pretty sure he’s got a one way ticket to hell for everything that’s happened so far, but this makes it even worse somehow. She sets the camera up on the tripod, and Mike knows how long Bill saved up to buy it for her, and he knows she must too, because she’s careful with it, touching it like it means something to her. 

After the camera’s in place she comes over to them, arranging them exactly how she wants them. She moves all the others directly, putting them in their places. She doesn’t come near Mike, and he wants to do something stupid just to make her say something, to touch him. Instead he poses with the rest of the guys, careful to keep his face as blank and unaffected as he can. The light’s going to wash them out, but something about the thought of it appeals to him. Makes the music matter more than the fact that Bill’s going to break hearts.

“You guys are on in ten.” One of the club guys tells them as he comes out to smoke. Courtney takes a few more shots and then nods at her step-dad to kill the light. 

“Thanks, Court.” Bill goes over to her and hugs her then taps her on the nose. “You made me look good, right?”

“Well, I tried to find your good side, but I just couldn’t do it. Each time I looked it was just your face.” She grins at him, and Mike feels a twist in his gut. He wants to be that easy with her, that comfortable. He wants her to tease him in more ways than one.

“Carden! You coming?” Big Mike waves toward the door and heads inside. Mike looks at Courtney one more time, then jogs inside. He can feel the chill from outside creeping underneath his skin, and he shivers once he hits the warmth coming off the crowd in waves. He glances back as Bill and Courtney come inside, can see her white t-shirt in the dim light, and his eyes stray to her nipples, tight and hard from the cold. 

“I’ll see you after,” Bill tells her, kissing the top of her head. “Get good shots of me. And the other guys too, I guess.” He raises the back of his hand to his forehead and rolls his eyes and Courtney laughs. 

“I’ll try to remember you’re not the only one out there.” She gives him a little shove down the hallway. “Go on. I have to grab the other camera and get set up. You cleared it with security, right?”

“You’re in the clear, sis.” He walks past Mike and gives him a warning look. Mike can tell he’s thinking about stopping until Mike falls in step with him, but Adam calls him over, and Mike exhales roughly. 

“Hey.”

“I’m busy.” 

He turns as she walks past him and follows her. “I know. Me too. I’m playing a show.”

“I’m aware.” She glances back at him then turns away quickly. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my camera out of your face. I’d hate to distract you, since you need both brain cells to play.”

“You don’t need your camera to distract me.” He reaches out and catches her wrist, thumb rubbing against her pulse. “Courtney...”

She jerks her hand free and turns around. “Don’t.”

“I just...can we talk about this?”

“I told you. There’s nothing to talk about.” She crosses her arms over her chest and Mike’s careful not to look. “And you don’t have to worry. I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“There _is_ something to talk about, and you know it.”

“Carden.” Bill’s voice is sharp and it isn’t until he hears it that Mike realizes that Bill had been warming up until then. “Back off.”

“We were talking.” He doesn’t move away, and he keeps glancing at Courtney, even though Bill looks like he’s about to cut Mike in two if Mike takes his eyes off of him long enough. “I wasn’t being a dick.”

“No more than usual.” Courtney turns on her heel. “I’m going to switch out my camera. See you in a few.”

Bill waits until she’s gone before he takes a step forward. Mike’s fought with him enough to know that Bill fights dirty and mean. Mike glances up and meets Bill’s angry gaze. “Leave her alone. I don’t know what it is that’s got you so pissed at her, and I don’t actually give a fuck. It just stops. Now.” He looks back at the rest of the band and then at Mike again. “Now, are we going to play or are you going to end up with my fist through your throat?”

Mike moves around him and grabs his guitar. “You’re the one with the problem here, Beckett. Not me.”

**

Mike comes off stage with Bill’s arm around him, both of them covered in sweat. He doesn’t remember most of the experience, just feels the high from the lights and the sound and the applause. It’s pretty fucking amazing. Adam hops on Bill’s back and hugs them both around the neck, kissing Bill’s sweaty cheek. “Mom, Dad. That was the fucking _best_.”

“We’re not your parents, Siska.” Mike disentangles himself from Adam’s arm and ducks out from underneath Bill’s, planning to go in search of the cooler of beer he knows is in the trunk of AJ’s car.

“Bill!” Courtney races by him in a blur of air and color, and Mike shivers in the wake. She jumps up and hugs Bill, dislodging Adam and nearly overbalancing all of them. “You were amazing! It was like electricity. I’m so proud of you.” She hugs him again and Mike leans against the wall and just watches, doing his best not to wonder what it would be like to have her react that way to him. “I can’t wait to see the pictures.” She tightens her hug and Bill wraps his arms around her waist, spinning her in a circle. She laughs out loud until he stumbles a step and she tells him to put her down before they fall down. He does and she moves to hug AJ, Big Mike, and Adam.

Adam spins her around so she’s facing Mike and gives her a little push in his direction. She stalls and Mike shakes his head, turning on his heel and going in search of the cooler. He doesn’t look back. He finds the beer and digs one out of the ice, opening it and drinking half of it down. He knows his parents are inside, but he doesn’t care at the moment. Just needs something to wash away whatever it is that’s stuck in his throat.

The problem with being in with the beer is that the rest of the band follows him, getting their own out of the cooler. There’s a lot of joking and shoving until Bill comes out with his arm around Courtney and his other around Christine, which means they’re on again this weekend. Mike loses track, given how often the status changes. “Hey, Stein.” Mike raises his beer in her direction. “Displaying shitty taste again, huh?”

“Always, Mike. That’s why I’m friends with you.” She catches the beer he tosses her and cracks it open, offering it to Bill. He ducks down to drink it, letting her pour it down his throat. Courtney’s blushing as Bill’s hand tightens on her shoulder for support. 

“You want one, Beckett?” Mike digs another one out and holds it in Courtney’s direction. 

“No. Thanks. I have to get back inside. Mom and Andrew are waiting for me.”

“Right. It’s a school night, isn’t it?” He tosses the beer to Adam instead. “Better hurry home, Cinderella.”

“I’m sure as hell not going to find my prince anywhere around here.” She hugs Bill’s waist and then slips out from under his arm, heading back into the building. Mike drains the last of his beer and tosses the can in the trunk and follows her. When Christine’s around, Beckett doesn’t notice anyone else, so he’s not worried about anyone following them, especially given the level of antagonism he and Courtney seem to be giving off.

Mike grabs her wrist and tugs her into the small dressing room and shuts the door. “Everyone else got a congratulatory hug, Beckett.”

“Maybe I didn’t feel like congratulating you. Maybe I thought you played like shit. Maybe I thought you weren’t all that great, so I didn’t take a single picture of you. Maybe I...” She stops when he steps closer, crowding her against the wall. 

“Maybe you what, Courtney?” Her eyes are on his mouth and he licks his lips slowly, deliberately. “Maybe you what?”

“You need to stop this.”

“This what?” He reaches out and brushes her hair back. “Tell me what to stop and I will. Tell me to leave you alone. Tell me to stay away. Tell me, Court, and I’ll do it.”

“I’ve left you alone. You told me to, and I did. Why do you keep...being there?”

“Because you drive me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wanting to kiss you. Two months ago I hated you. You were Bill’s annoying little sister. Now you’re...you’re just you, and god, I want to touch you again.” He closes his eyes and then looks at her again. “But if you don’t want me to, then you tell me now, and I’ll walk out of this room and I won’t come near you again. Won’t talk to you again, if that’s what you want.”

“We _can’t_ do those things. Bill would _kill_ us. You.”

“We can’t, or you don’t want to?”

“Why does it matter?” She asks, her voice higher than normal, exasperated and frustrated.

“Because if it’s that you don’t want to, then we won’t. If it’s because we can’t, then I’m going to take one step closer, push you against the wall and kiss you.” He raises his eyebrows and looks down at her mouth. “So which is it?”

“If...if I say no, you promise you’ll stop?”

Pain stabs into Mike’s chest, but he manages to nod. “That’s what I said.”

“I have to go. Mom and Andrew really are waiting for me.” She moves around him, careful not to touch him. Mike closes his eyes and thumps his head against the wall as soon as she turns the doorknob. He can feel her eyes on him, but he doesn’t look her way. “Mike. I...I didn’t say no.”

**

He’s known how to break into the Beckett house for years or, more specifically, how to break Bill out of it. Still, it works in reverse, so long as Bill’s out with Christine in someone’s spare bedroom doing things her parents would freak out about. Which he is, which is why Mike can open Bill’s bedroom window and crawl inside, listening to Courtney’s parents downstairs for a minute before he sneaks down the hallway and knocks lightly at Courtney’s door. 

“Yeah?” 

He opens the door and ducks his head inside, holding one finger to his lips. Courtney’s mouth opens and then snaps shut as he moves inside and shuts the door. “Don’t scream or anything, okay? I just...I just want to talk a little.”

“You broke into my house and came into my bedroom to talk to me? You haven’t heard of a phone?” She tugs the covers up higher on her lap and uses one hand to push her hair out of her eyes. “The computer?”

“It’s late. I figured you’d be in bed. Which you are.” He can’t help but look at her, up the length of the bed and then back down to where the tank top is tight across her breasts, her nipples hard beneath the dark blue fabric. “Captive audience and all that.” He takes a step further into the room and grabs the chair from beneath her desk, turning it around and straddling it, holding tightly to the back to remind himself to keep his hands right where they are. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She crosses her arms over her chest, which makes Mike’s gaze fall right back down. He shakes his head and looks up, and he can feel a blush warming his cheeks. “How’d you get in?”

“Bill’s window. The screen pops off, and so all you have to do is jiggle the lock.” He swallows hard, trying to figure out where to look that’s not at her chest or where the covers meet her waist, that doesn’t make him wonder what she’s wearing underneath. “How come you’re still awake?”

She blushes and Mike swallows hard, his mind trying to imagine what she was doing and getting stuck on the first thing that comes to mind. The first thing _he’d_ be doing. “I was just...um, reading.”

“Right. Reading. Good. That’s a good thing. Very educational.” He clears his throat and shifts on the chair. “Did you get good pictures of it? Um. The show. Good pictures of the show. Not your...reading. I mean, why would you take pictures of that?” His mind decides to remind him vividly of what pictures of ‘reading’ might look like, and he swallows a sound. “I mean, they have to be good if you didn’t get any of me. Improves the photo by a huge margin, right?”

“I took some of you. Your hands. I like your hands.”

“Yeah?” He looks down at them. Calloused fingers and short nails, the skin around them bitten and frayed. “You do?”

“Yeah. When...when you play. And when...and when you touch me.” Her voice breaks at the end, and she looks down at her own hands. “I like it when you touch me. It scares me, but I like it.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you. Not in a million years. Not for a million dollars.” He reaches out and the tips of his fingers brush her knee through her blanket. “God, I want to kiss you. All I think about is kissing you. Ever since that first time.”

“Me too. And...and at the lake.” She licks her lips and looks at him through her lashes. “I think about that. A lot.”

Mike groans softly and bites his lower lip hard to keep himself under control. “I do too. Touching you. Licking and sucking on you.” He bites his lip harder, but it doesn’t seem to help. “Knowing you had marks from my mouth on you.”

Courtney presses her hand to her mouth, but it doesn’t do much to muffle the sound she makes. Mike gives up and moves off the chair, coming over to the bed. He puts his left knee on the bed and leans in, moving her hand and stopping just before he kisses her, feeling her breath quicken against his mouth. She swallows and brings her eyes to his. “A-are you going to kiss me again?”

Mike nods. “Yeah.” 

“Now?” It’s barely a whisper, but he hears it clearly and nods again.

“You want me to, right?” 

She nods this time. “Yes. Please.”

She barely finishes the word before Mike kisses her. He’s balanced with one knee on the bed and his other foot on the floor, leaning into her. He puts one hand on her shoulder and closes his eyes, parting his lips as her tongue brushes against them. 

Courtney makes a sound as his tongue brushes hers, and her hands are shaking when the touch his chest. They fist in his shirt and Mike groans, dropping his hand off her shoulder and onto the bed, moving closer. He overbalances and his knee slides off the bed, and he lands on top of her, knocking the breath out of her. “Oh, shit. Shit, Courtney, I’m sorry.”

He rolls off of her and touches her stomach lightly. She shakes her head and smiles at him. “I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me. Just surprised me.” She’s breathless and the sound of her voice goes straight to his head, straight to his dick. “H-having you on top of me.”

Mike groans and kisses her again, sliding his hand across her stomach to curve over her hip and pull her against him. He’s on his side and she fits easily into his arms. Mike slides one of his legs between both of hers and shifts closer, not enough to bring their bodies flush, but close enough to feel the heat coming off of her. “Fuck, Court.” He breaks the kiss and pants against her mouth, nuzzling. “Dream about this.”

“It’s...it’s not a dream.” She touches his jaw and stares at him with wide eyes. “It’s real. I’m real. You’re real.” She laughs softly and kisses him, quick and warm. “We’re real.”

“Too real.” He laughs softly and kisses her again, his hand cupping the back of her head. He shifts his weight and he’s half on top of her, holding her down on the bed, his dick hard against her thigh. “God, you drive me crazy.” He rolls his hips and his eyes roll back from the pressure, the friction of her skin against his jeans.

“I want. I want more. Touch me.”

Mike curves a hand around her breast and squeezes it lightly, rubbing her nipple through her tank top. It hardens further at his touch, and he scrapes his nail across it. He doesn’t have much of a nail, but she still shivers and whimpers, her back arching off the bed. Her head falls back as well, and Mike stares at her for a moment before bending his head down and licking the nipple, wetting the fabric. 

He watches her as he takes the hard nub into his mouth, sucking and licking across the top. She’s breathing hard, lips parted. Mike closes his eyes, because seeing her is too much. He catches the strap of her tank top and pulls it down her arm, exposing her breast. “Oh, God.” He groans and takes her in his mouth, teeth and tongue working against her nipple. One of her hands tangles in his hair and she clamps the other over her mouth. 

Mike moves off the nipple and teases the fleshy part of her breasts, sucking and licking and nipping. Courtney’s moving beneath him, her hips rocking up against his erection. He moves back to her nipple and sucks hard on it, holding it between the roof of his mouth and his tongue. Courtney’s head falls back again and she shakes beneath him, violent and desperate. 

He pulls off carefully and watches her. Tears are shining brightly in her eyes, but she reaches for him and pulls him up to kiss her again. His mouth is hot and his dick is hard, and he can’t help thrusting down, grinding against her. She doesn’t relent, even when he tries to pull back, biting his lips and sucking on his tongue, holding him in the kiss. 

Losing control doesn’t take long, and Mike can feel the wet heat of his orgasm as his cock pulses in his jeans. Courtney breaks the kiss and her head falls back on the pillow. She’s breathing hard, at least as hard as he is, and she has goosebumps all over her skin. “You okay?” He doesn’t recognize his own voice, throaty and rough. 

She nods, but doesn’t say anything, and her eyes are half closed. “Is that what sex is like?”

Mike laughs softly. “That is sex, Court.”

“No it’s not.”

“Sex is more than just...what you think it is. We’ve been getting each other off. That’s sex.”

“But I’m a virgin.”

Mike bites back a sound. He knew it already, but somehow hearing it drives the thought home. “I know. But that’s not everything. Touching like this. Handjobs. Blowjobs. Going down on girls. It’s all sex.”

“You want me to do those things?”

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about you going down on girls, but now I am.” He laughs, dodging out of the way of her punch. He keeps rolling and ends up lying beside her on the bed. Reaching out, he catches her hand and threads his fingers with hers. “We can’t let Bill know.”

She’s quiet for a long time, and Mike knows what he’s asking. He knows it’s the truth, and he imagines she does too, but it doesn’t make it any easier for her, given how close the two of them are. “You’re the only secret I’ve ever kept from him. All the kisses. Everything. I haven’t told him.”

“I know, because I’m still breathing.”

She turns onto her side and looks at him. “You don’t think we could tell him? You don’t think he’d be okay with it?”

“No. I don’t. I don’t like keeping us a secret either, but if Bill finds out he’s going to kill me. And probably get your parents to ship you off to some boarding school or something. You’re his sister. His best friend. You’re...precious to him. He gets pissed if I get you a hard time. He’s sure as hell not going to let me...well.” Mike feels himself blush. “Do what we’ve been doing.”

She sighs softly and nods before resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re sure about this? You don’t want someone...older? More experienced?”

Mike turns and presses a kiss to her forehead and then her mouth. “I want you. Like crazy.”

There’s a knock on Courtney’s door and they both freeze. “Yeah?” Her voice squeaks slightly and Mike tries to slide off the side of the bed, to hide on the floor between the mattress and the wall.

“Bedtime, sweetie. Turn off the computer.”

“Yeah. I will. Sorry, Mom. Goodnight.” The hall light goes out, and the golden glow around her door fades to darkness. Mike can hear his heartbeat in his ears, and he stays on the floor for several minutes, even after he hears Courtney’s parents’ bedroom door close. She shifts on the bed and looks down at him, her hair falling in her face. “So. You should...probably break back out of the house.”

“Yeah.” He sits up slowly, careful not to make any noise. She stays lying on the bed, and he leans in and kisses her slight smile in the pale light coming in through her curtains. “Goodnight.” 

**

They don’t have practice the next day, but the following one they’re all back in Big Mike’s garage. They’re all riding the high of the gig, and Bill’s grinning a lot, which means he got lucky after the show. Mike’s careful not to act any different, because Adam’s way too observant when Mike least expects it, and the last thing he needs is someone asking him why he’s so happy. Mike’s spent the entire morning trying to figure out the logistics of seeing Courtney, when he hasn’t been jerking off. He hadn’t come to any answers before he had to go to practice, but he did manage to get himself off three times since he woke up.

He can't suggest she come back to practices, given the fit he threw previously, but when Bill says she's going to come in to show them the photos she took at the gig, he's careful not to make a fuss. Bill gives him a dirty look to start the conversation with, so he just lets Bill think he's been chastised. 

Courtney comes in with the old laptop she got from her dad and sets it on the workbench, plugging it in to the outlet after unplugging the band saw and drill battery charger. She's nervous, her hands shaking as she pulls up the pictures. Mike gets it. It's like performing in a way. He wishes he could reassure her, but he keeps his mouth shut and his hands to himself.

The pictures are good, both the action shots and the posed ones that she took in the alley. The guys argue with each other over which ones they'd want to use, but eventually they agree to majority rules, Bill, AJ, and Sisky winning the argument. Mike makes a face, because he looks like a putz in the one they choose, but Adam assures him he looks like a putz in all of them. Mike doesn’t intend to punch him for the comment, but he sees Courtney smile and can’t help it. 

Bill looks at some of the concert photos and picks out a few that he likes to put on their Myspace page. Mike steps closer and scrolls through them once Bill’s done, looking at the ones Courtney took of him. There aren’t a lot of them, but he likes the way she captured him. “These are good.”

“Thanks.” 

He steps closer, his arm brushing against hers. Her body jerks a little at the touch, but she doesn’t move away. Mike moves his hand, letting the back of his fingers press against her wrist. She turns her arm so he touches the inside of her wrist, the skin soft against his. “Can I have a copy of that one?” He’s not sure which one he’s pointing at, because he can’t quite look away from her.

“That one’s of Adam.”

“Adam’s my buddy. Maybe I want his picture. I mean, if it was of me, I’d be super vain. Right, Bill?” Bill flips him off and Mike grins then looks at Courtney. It’s a mistake, because all he wants to do is kiss her. “Which one’s your favorite?”

She licks her lips and stares at him for a long moment before turning back to the computer. She scrolls through until she gets to the end and opens one of the last photos. He’s got his legs spread, his left behind him and his right in front of him. His head is back, and his hair is sweaty, his hands frozen on his guitar. He looks lost in the music, lost in everything. He thinks he looks different, and he’s not sure what it is, but it doesn’t seem like him on the screen. 

“That one?”

“Yeah. It…I don’t know. I think it captures the performance. Exhaustion and elation all in one. You look beautiful.”

“Be-yooooo-tiful,” Sisky calls out, stretching the word out to the point of ridiculousness. “That’s our Mike. He’s a beautiful and precious flower.”

“Fuck you, Adam.” Mike doesn’t look away from the screen, and he can’t help studying the photograph and trying to see what Courtney sees. “Can I have a copy of this one?”

“Yeah. What size do you want it?”

“I don’t know. Picture-sized?” He shrugs and glances back. Everyone else has their instruments on, and they’re ready to practice. Bill’s not looking at him, but Mike can sense that he disapproves of Mike talking to her. Mike makes a face and deliberately taunts her, talking like she’s an idiot. “You’re the photographer, right?”

“Yeah.” She stiffens, and he knows she doesn’t understand. He can’t quite explain that Bill knows him too well for him not to be a dick to her. “You should probably go. We’re going to practice now.”

“Right.” She snaps the laptop shut and unplugs it, shoving it into her bag along with her camera and her school books. “Sorry to have bothered you.” She turns on her heel and walks out, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone. Bill gives Mike a death glare that Mike ignores, going over to his case to get his guitar out. He doesn’t say anything and, once he gets the strap over his head, Big Mike counts them off.

**

He feels like a creep, sitting in his car across the street from the school. He was going there just a couple of years ago, but it still feels weird, like he’s some sort of pervert or something. A bunch of freshmen girls come out, and he’s relieved they all look like kids. At least he’s not a complete psycho. He sees Courtney with some of her friends and honks his horn. She glances up and then finishes her conversation, starting to walk off toward her house. Mike curses under his breath and starts the car, inching along the road next to her as she makes her way down the sidewalk. “Hey. Hey.” He leans over a little bit. “I was honking at you. Let me give you a ride.”

“Fuck off.”

“Look, I know I was a dick, but...your brother was there. The band was there. It was just to keep them from being suspicious.”

“They don’t have anything to be suspicious of because I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to hang around with someone who’s going to treat me like shit in front of their friends.” She stops walking and turns to look at him, her long hair whipping back. Her eyes are flashing, angry and dark. “You’re a jerk and a dick and I don’t want to talk to you right now. Or ever.”

“I am. I am a jerk and a dick. I’m an asshole. You _know_ that. You’ve known that for years.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I thought you’d change when you decided you wanted to fuck me.”

“Whoa! Whoa! We’re messing around, yeah, but we’re not fucking. I mean, not _fucking_ -fucking. I never said...” He shuts up as her face darkens, tears pooling in her eyes. “I mean...”

“Shut up.” She shakes her head and the first tear falls, leaving a trail down her red cheeks. “Just shut up and go to hell.” 

She storms off, and he actually considers following her, but doesn’t. He’s pretty sure he’d just get himself in more hot water if he did. He feels like shit because he didn’t mean half of what he said. He just reacted like he would with any other girl, anyone trying to get to close. He’s good at putting people off. It’s what he does best. 

He drives to his parents’ house, because they have food and blankets and consistent heat and a TV that’s bigger than the 19-inch screen Mike found on the sidewalk one day. It only gets ¾ of the picture, but it’s better than nothing. Most of the time he just listens to his music or to sports on the radio. His brother comes in the TV room, takes one look at him, and turns around, heading up the stairs. Mike grabs a pillow off the couch and throws it at the door after him. 

Eventually he gets tired of _Law and Order_ reruns and shoves the afghan off his legs. Years of nagging from his mom kick in and he actually folds it back over the couch before shutting off the TV and heading into the kitchen. It’s his mom’ late night at work, so there’s no actual dinner, but scrounging through the fridge nets him leftover lasagna, cold fried chicken, and a jug of chocolate milk. His brother comes downstairs just as Mike pulls the hot plate from the microwave.

“That smells good.”

“Back off, bub.” Mike shields the plate from his brother with his body, the pint of chocolate milk in the crook of his elbow. “I am going to feast like a king, and you are going to suck it.”

“Whatever, asshole.” His brother roots around in the fridge and pulls out another container, and Mike can smell the leftover flank steak as soon as he opens it. 

“Fucker. You were hiding that!”

“Duh.” He dodges Mike’s hand as he stretches it out to grab the container from him. Mike’s chair almost tips, and Lucas laughs. “You don’t even live here anymore.”

“I’m living on my own and starving. Mom would _want_ me to have that flank steak.”

“Mom would tell you that you moved out of your own accord, so suck it up and be a man.” Lucas turns on the microwave and flips Mike off. “And then she’d laugh, because you’re about as far from being a man as is humanly possible.”

“Says my punk-ass little brother.” Mike bites into the chicken and rips it apart with his teeth. Lucas rolls his eyes as the microwave beeps. 

“So why are you here this time? Laundry? Avoiding grocery shopping?” He snags the chocolate milk and takes it to the opposite side of the table, curving his arm around it to keep it from Mike. “Or are you just a loser who misses his mommy?”

Mike kicks him in the kneecap under the table. “Don’t you have homework?”

“Don’t you have a job? And a disgusting apartment to go to? And surely you can find some poor, desperate girl to screw you.”

Mike blocks Lucas’s return kick, knocking it aside with his shin. He flips him off and concentrates on his food instead, stabbing the lasagna with more force than is probably necessary against a cooked noodle. “Hey. Maybe you can help me out.”

“Finding a girl to screw you? None of my friends are that hard up.”

“Trust me, the day I need your help to get laid is the day I kill myself.” He takes another bite of lasagna and shrugs. “Actually you’d be helping Beckett out.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Shut up for ten seconds, okay?” He can see Lucas mouth counting the seconds, so he kicks him in the knee again. “You know his sister.”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah.”

“He thinks she’s dating someone. Freaked out about it. Wants to know who it is so he can read him the whole ‘if you hurt my sister, I’ll kill you and chop you into pieces so small Humpty Dumpty will look like a kids’ puzzle’ thing.”

“Has he tried asking her?”

“Do you think I’d ask you if he had?”

Lucas is quiet for a few minutes then shrugs. “I’ll tell you, but just because I think the guy’s a creep, not because you asked.”

“A creep?”

“Yeah. He’s a player, you know? Stringing girls along until he gets in their pants and then spreading rumors about them around school. But he looks all clean cut, so no one suspects him of it.” He smiles and shrugs. “Or maybe I just have a vendetta against him and Beckett’s going to go after him for no reason at all.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Proof that we’re related.” Lucas grins wider. “Anyway, his name’s Jeff.”

“Jeff. He’s in her history class, right? Sits behind her?”

“How the fuck do I know? I’ve just seen him talking to her at her locker, leaning over her, which is hilarious really, because he’s only like an inch taller. Rumor is he’s going to make his move soon. See if Beckett’s really the icebox.”

“Icebox?” Mike can feel heat, blood boiling beneath his skin. “What does that mean?”

Lucas shrugs again. “That’s what some of the people at school call her. Among other things. She’s never dated as far as I know, so everyone just assumes she’s frigid or a lesbian. I’ve heard rumors there’s a bet going around, but I don’t know for sure.”

“What the fuck? Who the fuck does that?”

Scoffing, Lucas rolls his eyes. “Um, high school kids, dude. Where the fuck have you been?”

“Okay. Well, shit. Guess Bill’s going to skip the speech and just beat the shit out of this guy.” Mike gets up and tosses his leftovers in the trash. He deliberately leaves the plate in the sink, because he knows it’s Lucas’s job to load the dishwasher. His hands are shaking when he sets it down, so it rattles against the porcelain. “I gotta go.”

Lucas is frowning when Mike turns around. “Dude, you okay?”

“No. No. Not really. Just...she’s a good kid, you know? No one needs people saying shit like that about them. I have to go talk to Bill. You know where this guy lives?”

“No clue. Sorry.”

“It’s cool. We’ll figure it out.” He heads toward the door and stops, turning back. “Thanks, Lucas.” He sees the beginning of his brother’s shocked expression, but just starts walking. 

He debates the whole way back to his apartment whether or not he’s going to tell Bill, and he doesn’t have an answer by the time he gets home. All he’s got is anger shimmering around the edges of his vision, and he can’t seem to unclench his fists. He digs a beer out of the back of the fridge and downs it in two long swallows, cracking a second one open almost immediately after finishing the first. Bill’s better at plans, but Mike’s relatively certain Bill won’t let him kill the guy, which means he’s not going to tell Bill. He’s not going to tell anyone, and he’s definitely not going to sleep at all.

**

Courtney shows up in the middle of practice the next day, and Mike hits a wrong note. Adam starts teasing him immediately, doing his best Mike-impression. It’s actually pretty good, but mostly because Adam’s been hearing it the longest. Not that Mike would dare say anything to Adam like that. Bill would probably have his balls for breakfast if he did. Besides, they’re both protective of Adam. 

“Sorry to interrupt.” Courtney doesn’t look in Mike’s direction at all, keeping her gaze focused on Bill. “I got the pictures back. Just wanted to drop them off, since this is on my way.”

“On your way to what?” Mike asks.

Courtney ignores him and hands a second envelope to Bill. “These are some individual ones I thought the guys would like. Just to have for their parents or whatever.” She shoves her hands in her pockets after he takes the envelope. “I’m going to go. Sorry that I disrupted your practice. Oh, and Mom said she talked to Dad and he can help you move this weekend. He’s going to borrow his friend Steve’s truck.”

“I don’t have enough to need a truck.” William laughs and reaches out, tucking a strand of Courtney’s hair back under her knit cap. He frowns and tilts his head. “Mike’s right. Where are you going?”

“Over to a friend’s house. Homework, you know? I’ll see you tonight.”

“You’re helping this weekend too, right?”

Courtney glances at Mike for the first time and then looks back at Bill, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your roommate’s time. I know how valuable it is to him. Which is why I’m leaving. Before he accuses me of doing it now.” She waves to the other guys and heads to the door. “See you.”

Bill watches her go and then turns his own glare on Mike. “I hope you’re happy.”

“Hey, I just didn’t want her camera flashing in my fucking face when I was trying to get this shit right, okay?” He stamps on a pedal and strums across the strings. “Can we practice now? Mike. Count us off.”

Bill keeps glaring at him, but he picks up the song as soon as Big Mike hits the first note. Mike knows it’s all a waste, because there’s no way in hell he can concentrate on the music when his imagination is busy showing him scenarios of where Courtney’s going, who she’s seeing, what that asshole might do to her. Practice falls apart pretty much right there. Bill announces he’s going to write and flops over onto a dilapidated couch in the corner. Sisky gravitates toward Big Mike and AJ, working out a piece that’s been giving AJ trouble for a while. 

Mike looks over at Bill and sighs, heading over there. “Look...”

“Why is it so fucking hard for you, Carden?” He doesn’t even look at Mike, which makes it worse somehow. “Courtney’s never done _anything_ to you, and yet you are a complete ass to her. What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Because she’s not going anywhere. She’s my _sister_.”

“I know that.”

“And if we manage to create something out of these shitty practices, then we’re going to be a band for a long time, and that means she’s going to be around for a long time, and so whatever your fucking damage is, you need to get over it. Now.”

“If she’d just stay away...”

“Is that what you’re going to say when she comes over to visit me? You realize that sharing an apartment with me means that she’s going to be around sometimes. I’m not cutting her out of my life because you’ve got some bug up your ass.”

“I can leave the apartment. I can’t leave practice.” Bill’s face twists like he’s tasted something sour and Mike sighs. “Look, I’m sorry. You know how it is when there’s one person that just, for some reason, manages to hit every button you’ve got, right? Like, they drive you crazy just by being in your space. For some reason that’s what she is to me. What she does to me.”

“She drives you crazy.”

“Yes.” Mike knows there’s far too much emphasis in the word, but he hopes Bill will attribute it to annoyance and not glean that Mike really means it, that Courtney _does_ drive him crazy, just not in the way Bill’s thinking. “I’ll try harder, okay? Just...” He glances up at the ceiling, the wooden rafters holding up old screens and shower doors, suitcases and a boxed fake Christmas tree. “I’ll try harder.”

Bill looks down at his notebook for a few minutes, then picks up the envelope Courtney had given him. He slides five envelopes out and hands one to Mike. “Here. I’ll see you tomorrow. Just...go home and chill out, okay?”

“I will. I will. It’ll be cool. You’ll see.” He takes the envelope and goes over and packs his guitar away, shutting the case and heading out to the car, calling out insults to the rest of the guys as he goes. He knows he probably can’t catch her, but he can drive around the neighborhood just in case. Just for a little while. 

He actually gets lucky and spies her at a 7-11 about a mile away. She’s standing outside the doors in her coat, hands shoved in the pockets. She’s got her hat pulled down over her ears, and she’s looking at the guy standing next to her. Mike pulls up to the gas pump and gets out, scrounging as much change out of his pockets as he can. He lucks out and actually has a five in his wallet, so he goes right past Courtney and the guy into the store.

The guy looks older than Mike knows he is, and he’s managed to either get a decent fake ID or he knows someone, because he’s got a beer held loosely in his hand, and he’s offering it to Courtney. She doesn’t take it, but she plays it off with a smile. Mike wants to grab the guy from behind and slam his head into the concrete, but instead he goes inside and buys a soda and five bucks worth of gas. It’s going to have to last him until his next payday, but at least this way he _has_ gas, which is more than he probably would have had when he actually remembered he needed to get gas. He’ll just have to eat at home a few more times than he planned. He opens his Coke and heads back to his car, glancing at Courtney out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t know if she knows it’s him, so he keeps ignoring her. Either the guy will try to take her somewhere or he’ll do something that Mike can officially beat the shit out of him for. So Mike will know where he lives or he’ll have taken care of the problem. Win-win.

Instead the asshole finishes his beer and tosses the bottle in the garbage. He gives Courtney a hug that goes on too long then heads off. Mike’s torn between following him and offering Courtney a ride home, but that means admitting that he’s watching her, spying on her. Something tells him she wouldn’t be happy about that. Still it’s late and cold and he’d have offered her the ride before all this happened, so he doesn’t feel too bad about it. Or too creepy. One of those.

She starts to walk off in the opposite direction, so Mike clears his throat. “Hey.”

Courtney stops and turns, her eyes widening as she realizes who he is. “Are you following me?”

“What? No. I needed gas.” The pump quits at five bucks, so he replaces the nozzle and the gas cap. “This is the closest place. What are you doing here?”

“Meeting some friends. They didn’t show up. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Oh. How are you getting home?”

“How do you think?” She gestures toward the sidewalk and the bus stop.

“The last one’s at ten. That’s why I drove to Mike’s. Let me give you a ride.”

“No.”

Mike holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m not going to touch you. Hell, I won’t even _talk_ to you. Just let me give you a ride home, okay? If I let you try to get home by yourself, Bill’ll kill me, and if I’m not going to die because of the other stuff, I’m sure as hell not going to die for _that_. So let me just give you a ride, okay?”

She looks like she’s going to argue with him, but she always looks like she’s going to argue with him, so he just waits her out. Finally she shrugs and heads toward his car. He’s not stupid enough to open the door for her, but he does shut it once she’s inside. “You better have meant it about not talking.”

Mike mimes locking his lips with a key and Courtney rolls her eyes and slumps in her seat. They ride in silence not only because of his promise but because he has no idea what to say to her and he has too much to say to her all at once. Mike sucks at this, and they’re getting closer to her house and he has to say something or he’s pretty sure this will be his last chance. He puts on his blinker and pulls off into the parking lot of a strip mall. It’s deserted, bleak in the yellow street lights.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Mike turns off the car and exhales, careful not to look at her. “Look, I know I keep fucking this up. Things are good when we’re alone and they suck when we’re around other people. Around Bill.”

Courtney crosses her arms over her chest and Mike wonders if she’s even listening. He wants to reach out and touch her, but something tells him he’d lose an arm.

“I keep saying things to keep distance between us so no one gets suspicious, but you keep seeing it as me pushing you away. I’m not. The last thing I want to do is push you away.”

“I thought you were taking me home.”

“I don’t like the guy you were with tonight.”

She actually looks at him at that. “Well, I don’t like the guy I’m with right now, so we’re even.”

“My brother says he’s got a bet going about when he’ll sleep with you.” Mike keeps both hands on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly. “He calls you names.”

“And you don’t?”

“Not like he does.”

Courtney bites her lower lip and looks out the passenger side window. “They all call me those names. It doesn’t matter. They’ll call me names no matter what. If I put out, I’m a slut. If I don’t I’m frigid. Either way I’m some sort of giant freak. Nothing’s going to change any of that.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to play along with it.”

“Why don’t you just tell Bill all of this? He’s my _actual_ older brother. I don’t need a spare.”

“I can promise you that none of the feelings I have toward you are brotherly in the slightest. I want to rip this guy’s arms off for even thinking about touching you.”

“Why?” She smirks at him, her expression tight and closed off. “You or Lucas have money on the bet?”

“No! Jesus. No.” Mike lets go of the steering wheel and clenches his hands into fists, drumming them on his thighs. “Fuck, do you really think I’d do that? To anyone? Much less to you?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know what you’d do. What you want.”

“I want you.”

She laughs sharply. “Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

“Nothing about wanting you is convenient! Why do you think it’s driving us both fucking crazy?”

“I’m _fine_!”

“Fine then.” Mike slams both fists onto the steering wheel. “Just fucking fine.”

“Fine.”

Mike grabs the key and wrenches it to start the car. The car sputters, coughs and dies. “Fuck.” Mike turns the key several times and the engine grinds and then dies again. “Great. This is just great. Just fucking great.” He pulls the key out and shoves it into his pocket and opens his door. “Come on.”

“Come on where?”

Mike climbs out of the car and looks back in at her. “I’m walking you home.”

“I live ten miles from here.”

“I live two.”

“You want me to go to _your_ place?”

Mike kicks the side of the car several times. “I have a fucking phone. You can call your parents. Or Bill. Or anyone else.”

“They’re out of town. Visiting family with the kids.” She gets out of the car and wraps her arms around herself. “And Bill’s with Christine.”

“Pretty sure he’d stop whatever he was doing to come and get you.”

“Yeah, because _that’s_ what I want to think about.”

“Then just stay at my place. You can have the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Right.”

“I didn’t try to save you from him so I can do something. And I’d never...and fuck you if you think I would.”

“Did you ever think I didn’t _need_ saving? I could have called a friend from the 7-11 and actually gotten home instead of being miles from home stuck with you.” She shoves the car door shut and starts walking. “Walking to the hellhole you call home.”

“Feel free to walk to your house instead.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Fine.” Mike is thankful the strip mall is closed since they’re shouting at each other.

“Fine!” Courtney walks off away from mike. He starts to count to ten in his head, but he only makes it to three before he jogs up alongside her. “What are you doing?”

“Walking you.”

“I don’t want to be walked. I want to be left alone.”

“I’ll leave you alone. But I’m still walking you home.”

“It’s ten miles.”

“So?”

“You live two miles. The other way.”

“So?”

Courtney stops walking and groans. “Fine. We’ll go to your place.” She turns abruptly and starts walking the other direction. Mike falls in step with her, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “I swear, you Becketts are going to be the death of me.”

“Good.” She keeps walking, trying to outpace him. “I still want to be left alone.”

Mike takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “Fine.”

**

Mike doesn’t care that his apartment is a mess as much as he cares that Courtney is shivering. They’d gotten caught by a freezing rainstorm about fifteen minutes from his house and neither of them were dressed for it.

He cranks the heat even though he can’t afford it then goes and grabs a towel for her hair. Her teeth chatter when she says thank you and Mike guides her over to one of the vents. The air isn’t that warm, but it’s getting there, and anything has to be warmer than her ice-cold skin. 

Mike goes into his room and strips out of his wet clothes, pulling on a cleanish t-shirt and a pair of sweats. He kicks most of the stuff on the floor to one corner of the room then lays out another t-shirt, a pair of socks, a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt. When he goes back into the living room, Courtney’s right where he left her, but her hair is still dripping and the towel is around her neck.

Mike takes the towel and covers her hair, drying it for her, his fingers pressed hard against her scalp. “Come on. I’ve got dry clothes you can borrow.” She nods and lets him steer her to the bedroom. She’s still shivering and her teeth are clacking together. “I’ll make some coffee or tea or something. I think I have something. I can make hot water.” She just stands there and Mike takes her hands in his. They feel like blocks of ice and they’re bright red except the tips of her fingers which are white. “Okay. Um.”

She blinks at him, and it looks like tears are running down her face, but it’s just ice in her hair and eyelashes melting. Mike brings her hands up to his mouth and blows on them, rubbing them between his to warm them up. She shivers all over and Mike lets go of her hands. 

“You need to get out of those clothes. So. You should do that.” He watches her try, watches her fingers not cooperate. Mike closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Just...I just want to help.” He steps closer and unzips her jacket. It’s soaked through and her t-shirt clings to her skin. 

Courtney shivers as the air hits her and goosebumps rise up on her skin. Mike doesn’t think, he just lifts her t-shirt and pulls it off of her and tosses it on top of her jacket. She’s full-on shivering now and Mike can see the dark, hard outline of her nipple through her bra. “This too, okay?”

She doesn’t move as he steps forward and reaches behind her to undo the clasp of her bra. She lets out a small noise as it unhooks and Mike’s careful to only look at her face as he pulls it off her arms. He grabs the towel he’d used on her hair and dries her off the best he can. It’s not a rough towel, but her skin is cold enough that he can see the trail of where he rubbed it against her. 

“Okay. So, we’re doing good. Okay.” He reaches for the shirt on his bed and stares at it and then at her. “I’ve never actually put a shirt on a girl before. Or anyone other than me. So. Um.” He bunches it up in his hands and works the neck hole over her head. Her hair’s still damp so he gets it out from under the collar so it’s not against her skin and then he stares at the shirt some more before grabbing her arm and guiding it beneath the fabric. The back of his hand brushes her breast and Mike has to stop and close his eyes for a moment.

Courtney makes a small sound and it takes all of Mike’s willpower to keep going. He gets the shirt on her and then kneels down and rests his hands on the waistband of her jeans. He closes his eyes and undoes them, struggling to slide the wet denim down her legs. She presses her hand to his shoulder as he helps her work one foot out, sock coming with her jeans. He works the other leg free as well and the cold points of contact where her fingers are on his shoulder are warming. He looks up to say something and finds himself face to face with her underwear.

Her peach-colored, soaking wet, see-through underwear. 

“Um. Yeah. We should. Uh...Maybe you could...and I’ll get the pants. Yeah. Um.” He turns away and fumbles for the pajama pants on the bed. He can feel Courtney moving and he thrusts the pants behind his back for her. She takes them from him and she must put them on because she’s wearing them when she sits on the edge of the bed. “Better?”

She nods and clears her throat. “Thanks.”

“There are socks too. For your feet. I mean, obviously. And I’ll go make something warm. I bet I have ramen. Is ramen okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks again.” 

He reaches out and tucks a strand of damp hair behind her ear. “You’re not allowed to get pneumonia and die or anything. I mean, I’d be super pissed if you did.” She turns her face toward his hand and he cups her cheek. “I...” He licks his lips. “I really like you. A lot.”

“I like you too.” It’s barely more than a whisper, but it feels like she’s shouted it. “But I’m not good at pretending, and I know you say it’s about protecting whatever this is, but when you say those things to me or about me, it feels real. It feels like you mean it. I mean, maybe I’m young and stupid, but it...it feels real.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not. I can promise you it’s not. Shit, Courtney. You’re all I think about. You’re all I can see. I suck at practice because I’m thinking about you. I suck at _everything_ because I’m thinking about you.” He brushes his thumb over her lips. They’re still cold, but he doesn’t really feel it as her tongue darts out and touches his thumb. “Fuck, Court. I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

“I want you to. I want it.” She closes her eyes tight and turns her head to press her mouth to his palm. “But next time you say something it’ll just hurt more.”

“We’ll tell him. We’ll tell him and then he’ll know and I won’t have to pretend anymore.” He kisses her temple then moves his hand to turn her to face him. “Courtney. Please.”

She nods and moves in, kissing him first. Mike groans and kisses her back, tangling one hand in her hair, damp strands clinging to his fingers. Her mouth is hot, contrasting with the rest of her. Mike licks inside it and she sucks on his tongue, her fingers digging into his shoulders. His free hand slides to the small of her back, slipping under the hem of the t-shirt. He’s carefully not thinking about her wearing his clothes because he’s already hard just from kissing her.

One of her hands curves around the back of his neck and Mike gasps roughly. “Shit. Your hands are still cold.”

She kisses him again, letting her fingers trail down his chest before sliding her hand between his thighs. 

“Oh...fuck.” Mike’s thighs tense and he pulls her closer. Courtney gets to her knees and straddles him, still kissing him as her hand turns, curving around the bulge of his cock. “Court. Shit.”

Mike slides his hands under her shirt, splaying them across her back. His thumbs graze her sides just below the curve of her breasts and she moans into his mouth. She moves her hand off his dick and pushes on his shoulders, guiding him down onto the bed. She comes with him, her breasts pressed hard against his chest. He gets one of his hands in her hair and tilts her head, deepening the kiss. Her knees dig into the sides of his legs and his hips roll up. 

Courtney moans again and thrusts down against him. Mike chokes and breaks the kiss, rolling them over and laying Courtney on the mattress before he makes himself sit up. “What...what’s wrong?” Her voice is soft, husky. “Mike?”

He exhales shakily and rubs his mouth roughly. “I don’t think we should do this. I mean, I want to do this. A lot. But I think right now neither of us is thinking straight and so it’s probably not a good idea. So we should go out into the living room and have ramen or tea or something and watch TV. I have blankets. We can get under the blankets and do that.”

“But...”

Mike shakes his head. “I don’t want it to happen like this. This isn’t some hook-up or something.” He looks at her and smiles ruefully. “I like you. I want to do this right.”

“It seemed pretty right.”

“We both look like drowned rats. You’re still shivering. Not like this, okay?” He reaches over her for the socks and sets them in her lap. “Put these on so you don’t get colder. Maybe pick out a movie. Besides, an hour ago you wanted to rip my balls off.”

“Because you keep changing your mind!”

“No. Because I keep getting scared. Scared of how you make me feel. Scared of all the things I want to say and do. Scared that your brother’s going to kill me and use my skin for a coat.”

“You’re too short for him to make you into a decent coat.”

“Wow.” He laughs. “That’s way less reassuring than I’m sure you meant it to be.” He reaches for her hand and takes it, squeezing gently. “I haven’t changed my mind about this. Not once. Not about this. About us. About you.” 

Courtney sighs and stares down at her hand in his. Finally she works it free and grabs the socks. “Cocoa if you have it. And you’d better have something besides porn to watch. I’m not watching whatever weird stuff you get off on.”

He doesn’t have cocoa, but he has ramen, so they sit on the couch underneath a pile of blankets and sip broth while they watch “Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure.”

Mike puts both their mugs out of the way when her eyes start drifting closed and she moves closer to him, her head against his chest. Mike wraps his arm around her and combs her hair with his fingers. He’s torn between kicking himself for stopping them in the bedroom and a huge sense of relief that he did, but the easy way she lays against him makes her pretty sure he made the right choice.

He closes his eyes and presses a kiss to the top of her head. She snuggles closer and he tightens his arm around her, falling asleep before Wyld Stallyns aces history.

**

“Carden! Carden? Are you fucking in there?”

Mike jerks awake, looking down at Courtney. She’s still asleep and Mike blinks blearily at the clock. 

“Goddamn it, Carden! Where the fuck are you?”

It’s three AM and that’s Bill pounding on his door. Mike eases Courtney onto the couch as he slips out from beneath her. He yawns as he opens the door, hoping none of his neighbors is awake. Bill is pacing the hallway and texting on his phone.”

Mike yawns again. “Bill? My neighbors are going to shoot you if you don’t shut up.”

“Thank fuck you’re home. Courty’s missing.”

“No she’s not.”

“She hasn’t come home and she’s not answering her phone. And none of her friends know where she is. That’s missing.”

“She’s fine. She’s here.” Mike steps back so Bill can see the pile of blankets on the couch. Bill pushes past Mike and pulls one blanket back to reveal a foot. He grabs the other end and gets her disheveled hair and cheek, pink from where she’d lain against Mike. 

“Thank god.” Bill exhales and touches Courtney’s hair before texting some more. Mike assumes it’s to Christine. “What the fuck is she doing here?” 

Mike’s not sure if he’s reading a reply on his phone and asking the question from that or if Bill’s multitasking. He thinks the answer’s obvious. “Sleeping.”

“Don’t be a smartass or I’ll punch you in the throat.”

“I saw her waiting for the bus after practice. I was giving her a ride home and my car died. We were closer to here.”

“Why didn’t you fucking _call_ me?”

“She didn’t want to bother you and Christine.”

“ _Bother us_? Jesus. Why didn’t _you_ call or text? Or answer your goddamned phone in the past three hours?”

“Dude, no one wants to bother you guys when you’re actually on speaking, and thus fucking, terms.” Mike shrugs. “Besides, I had mine off during practice, and I guess I didn’t turn it on again. And Courtney’s been asleep. We got caught in the rain, so I made her change into something dry. Then we had soup and bundled up.”

“You guys are noisy.” Courtney buries her face against the cushion and pulls a blanket over her head. “Shh.”

“Courtney, come on. Let’s get you home.” 

“’s cold outside. ‘m warm.”

“You can be warm in a bed.”

“Cozy.” She pulls the blankets tighter around her. Mike bites back a grin at Bill’s visible frustration. “Go home, Bill. She’s safe. She’s pretty much asleep. Come get her tomorrow.” Mike yawns again. “Later. Have Christine pick out some clean clothes for her.”

“She needs to come home.”

“Bill. She’s fine. She’s comfortable. Go home.” When Bill opens his mouth to argue, Mike snaps. “Just fucking trust me, okay?”

I do.” William strokes Courtney’s hair then pulls his hand away. “I do. And we’ll come around mid-morning. Treat you to breakfast.”

“Like I’m going to turn down free food.” Mike follows Bill to the door and leans on it. “I’m sorry we didn’t call. When we got here, I was just worried about getting her warm.”

“Okay, okay. Thanks. Thanks for looking out for her.”

“Pretty sure she’s more than capable of looking out for herself, but I’m glad I could help. Goodnight.” Bill waves as he heads for the stairs. Mike waits until he’s out of sight before he closes and locks the door. He turns around and rests his back against it. Courtney is peeking out from the blankets and watching him. “You want the bed?”

“I want you to come back here.”

Mike walks back over to the couch as Courtney sits up, making room for him. He settles down next to her and lifts his arm so she can fit back against his chest. She’s looking up at him when he glances down, and he tilts his head to kiss her. it’s soft and short and sweet. “Go back to sleep.”

“You too.”

He intends to, but she keeps glancing up at him, keeps smiling and eventually he tugs her into his lap. He doesn’t do much more than doze after that, forehead pressed against her temple, breathing in every soft sigh while she sleeps.

**

He must sleep at some point, because when he wakes up, he hears people and, more importantly, smells food in his kitchen. He’s pretty sure that’s an unprecedented event, so he gets to his feet, rubbing his eyes as he goes. Courtney’s sitting on the counter and Christine is cooking and Bill’s making toast. “I have a toaster?”

“No.” Bill pushes the lever down. “But I do, so we’ll just call this moving in slowly.”

“I know I didn’t have food.”

Christine laughs, “That’s my doing. It seemed easier than getting us to all agree on a place to eat. I hope you like bacon and eggs and pancakes.”

“I’m human, aren’t I?” Mike smiles at Courtney and she smiles back and, for some reason, it hits him right then that she’s dressed in his clothes. She’s completely naked under his clothes. “How long have you been up?”

“They got here about a half hour ago. I took our clothes downstairs and put them in the dryer.”

“You went down there like that?” He frowns. “Did anyone bother you?”

“No. I’m fine.” She rolls her eyes and hops off the counter. “I should probably go down and check on them.” 

“There are creeps that live around here. I’ll go down there with you.”

“You’d know about creeps,” Bill calls after him as the two of them go toward the door. 

“You’re moving in here, Beckett,” Mike yells back. “What does that say about you?” He shuts the door and heads for the stairs. Once they’re on the other side of the door, Mike pushes her against the wall carefully and looks at her. “Seriously. It’s not really safe around here. And you look amazing.”

“I look awful.” 

“No.” He rests his hands on her hips. “You look amazing. Like always.” He leans in and kisses her slowly, making a low sound as she rolls her hips against his. Mike forces himself to pull back, but he takes her hand and she follows him down to the laundry room. The dryer’s still running and Mike grabs her hips, boosting her up on top of it.

“What are you doing?”

Mike spreads her legs and moves in closer, the heat of the dryer soaking through his sweats. He knows the same is happening to Courtney as she squirms closer to him and wraps her legs around his waist. His hands curve around to her ass and he tugs her forward, the heat and the vibration making her tighten her thighs around him. “I want to...” He kisses her hard, trying to block out all the thoughts swimming in his head. Courtney’s heels dig into the back of his legs and she’s closer still. Mike rises up on his toes and his dick slides against her and his head falls back hard. 

“Want you,” she murmurs against his throat. “Feel you. Touch you.”

“Court, stop. God, stop before I can’t.” He kisses her again anyway, biting and sucking her lower lip into his mouth. She digs her fingers into his sides and he groans again, squeezing her ass. “Want you so much. Fuck, so much.” He’s going to come in his sweats if theyd on’t stop soon, and he really doesn’t want to have to explain that to Bill or Christine. He can already feel that she’s wet against him and it takes everything in his power to pull back.

Her eyes are bright and her mouth is wet and red and swollen and Mike wants to bury his face between her thighs. Fuck. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and forces himself to take a deep breath. “Let’s get the clothes and go upstairs. Bill and Christine are going to come down here any minute if we’re not careful.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You’re...yeah.” She slides to the floor and her legs nearly give way underneath her. She catches herself and holds onto the dryer until she’s steady. Mike knows he should be strong enough to reach out and help her without his dick telling him that he needs to kiss her again, but he keeps his distance. She’d probably be pissed if he tried to help anyway. She opens the dryer door and sorts through the clothes, grabbing hers. Mike waits until she moves out of the way to grab his, holding them in front of his erection. “Mike?”

Her voice is soft, tentative. He looks at her and gives her a smile. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For stopping. I couldn’t have. I didn’t want to. And I know we needed to.”

“I didn’t want to stop either. But I don’t want your brother walking in on us either. Though dying in the middle of making you come would be a good way to go as any.”

She laughs and it’s a little tremulous. Mike goes over to her and presses his forehead to her shoulder. She lets her head rest against his for a moment then clears her throat. “We should go up before they eat all the bacon.”

“You’re right. Bacon is of the foremost importance.” He kisses her cheek to let her know that he doesn’t mean it and she turns her head and kisses him lightly in return. “If you go first up the stairs first, I’m going to spend the entire time staring at your ass.”

“Then you should go first. So I can stare at yours.”

**

Mike jerks off for hours after everyone leaves, working his dick until he’s right on the edge and then backing off. By the time he finally comes, he feels raw and spent. He lays there on the bed and tries to get his breathing back to normal before he showers. It feels like washing the whole past day with Courtney off, and he hates it, but he also smells like sex, and he really doesn’t want to go to practice like that and listen to the shit his band will give him.

He has to leave early to walk to his car, but when he gets outside the building, Christine’s sitting there in her dad’s Cadillac. Mike leans on the passenger side door as she opens the window. “You’re asking to get carjacked.”

“Get in.”

Mike raises his eyebrows, but does as he’s told. “I didn’t expect a ride to my car.”

“What’s going on with you and Court?”

“Nothing.”

She doesn’t look at him, but Mike’s pretty sure her expression tells him exactly what she thinks of that answer. “How long have you guys been seeing each other?”

“We’re not seeing each other.”

“Fine, how long have you guys been fucking?”

Mike whips his head to glare at her. “I’m not fucking her.”

“You’re damn close then.” Christine glances at him, his glare completely not fazing her. “I haven’t let Bill know what I think is going on, but I will if you’re fucking around with her.”

“I told you, we’re not fucking.”

“That’s not all that I mean, and you know it.” She taps the steering wheel with her thumbs and takes a deep breath. “I know you’re not stupid, so I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and figuring that you’re serious about whatever it is that’s going on with you. But I also know what it’s like to be a guy with hormones at your age.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve met Bill, right?” She snorts. “He’s got the sex drive of-”

Mike cuts her off. “Shut up. Right now. I beg of you. The less I know about Bill’s dick and what he does with it the better.”

“Well, to be fair, it’s not just his-”

“Shut up! God.” Mike slumps in his seat. “You’re worse than him. Jesus.”

Christine pulls her car into the parking lot and stops next to Mike’s car. He starts to get out when she grabs his arm. “I’m not kidding, Mike. She’s like a sister to me, and I will leave you eviscerated on the side of the road without so much as a second thought. And then I’ll tell Bill, and god only knows what _he’d_ do to you.”

Mike takes a breath and holds it for a long time, releasing it as he nods. “I won’t hurt her. Not...I can’t promise that. I won’t hurt her on purpose. I like her. I...a lot. And it’s hard as shit to feel like this, because I know there’s no way in hell Bill will _ever_ be okay with it. Courtney’s...probably more precious to him than anything else in the world – no offense – and he thinks she deserves someone amazing. Hell, _I_ think that. And I know I’m not that person. So.” He rubs his forehead hard and then presses the ball of his hand against his eye. “I’d walk away if I could, but I can’t. I don’t want to. I want...”

Christine nods. “Okay. Be careful. In every sense of the word.”

Mike rolls his eyes and jingles his car keys in his jacket pocket. He slides into the car, silently praying that it starts so he doesn’t have to ask Christine for a ride to practice. She’s got a smirk on her face as she watches, and he wants to flip her off, but there’s no way he’s walking to Big Mike’s house. Fortunately the car starts after what seems like an eternity of sputters, coughs and groans. Mike waits for her to drive off before putting it in gear and heading to practice.

He gets a text on his phone halfway there and he glances down at it. It’s from Courtney and it’s a picture of her neck, a purple hickey darkening her skin. Mike groans and thumps his head against the steering wheel before focusing on the traffic and getting to practice on time.

Practice goes better than most and Bill invites him over to his mom’s house to work out their budget for when Bill moves in. Courtney and Christine are already there making spaghetti. They’re laughing in the kitchen and Mike keeps getting distracted by the sound. Bill keeps smacking him on the side of the head to get him to pay attention until Mike launches himself off the chair and they end up wrestling on the floor. He sucker punches William, who knees him in the balls, and when Mike’s eyes uncross, Christine and Courtney are both standing there, arms folded across their chests. 

Courtney glances at Christine. “Are all boys idiots?”

“Yes. And, even though they’ll try to tell you different, all men are boys.” She gives both Bill and Mike a scathing look. “Go wash your hands and set the table.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Bill says, but he gets up and does exactly what he’s told. Mike follows him and lets Bill load him up with plates and silverware that he carries back out to the table. He sets them down and starts clearing off all the budget paperwork, though he’s not sure the depressing listing of how much money he and Bill have combined counts as a budget. 

Dinner is quiet and relaxed, and Bill’s smiling though Mike’s not sure if it’s because his stomach’s full and he’s in love or if it’s because Mike and Courtney are getting along. It might be both. Mike doesn’t really care, because Courtney’s knee is pressed against his, and he rubs it with his thumb occasionally when he knows Bill’s distracted. They talk about music and movies and moving and Mike manages not to say anything spectacularly dumb, so it all works out okay. When they’re all done eating, Courtney stands up and starts gathering plates.

“I’ll do the dishes, since Christine did most of the cooking.”

Mike can’t believe he’s about to do this. He avoided chores like the plague when he lived at home. “You want help?”

“Sure.” She nods to the bowls of remaining food. “Bring those in and we’ll put them away.”

Bill watches them, and Mike can hear him ask Christine if she thinks he should be worried that Mike and Courtney are being nice to each other. He doesn’t hear Christine’s reply, but when he comes back for more dishes, the two of them are headed up the stairs to Bill’s bedroom.

“Huh. They’re going to have sex with us downstairs, aren’t they?”

Courtney pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Oh. Yeah. Probably. Hopefully they’ll use a gag or something. Bill’s loud.”

“ _Oh my god_ , why do you people _tell_ me things like that? Fuck, now I’ve got that image in my head and it’s going to be there until I die.” Mike sticks his tongue out and makes a gagging noise. Courtney looks amused, but not impressed. 

“Are you done? Then bring me the rest of the plates.”

He grabs them, doing his best to suppress the thought of Bill engaged in any sexual activity, much less one outside the realm of the missionary position. His brain helpfully supplies the thought of Courtney with a gag and he nearly walks into the table in the kitchen. She glances up from where she’s putting leftover spaghetti into Tupperware containers. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just fine. Yup.” He goes to the kitchen and starts filling the sink with water, staring resolutely at the faucet and trying to think of anything to distract him. He thinks he’s got the thought of his head when she comes up behind him and slides her hands around his waist, leaning against his back.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He rests his hand on top of both of hers over the button on his jeans. “Dinner was good.”

“Christine did most of it. I was in charge of salad and garlic bread. I mean, I can cook, but she’s much better in that department than I am.” 

Mike rubs his hand over hers and then turns the water off, turning around while still in her arms. Courtney looks at him, her expression serious. He trails his thumb over her cheekbone. “You okay?”

“I came home and hid in my room for most of the day. Thought about you.” She ducks her head and glances up through her lashes. “Thought about you inside me.”

Mike groans and closes his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. “Thought about it too. A lot.” His hands fall to her hips and he pulls her closer, letting her feel his dick hardening against her. “Thought about all the things we could do. All the ways we could touch. The way you’d feel against me. Around me.” Mike knows he’s blushing because he doesn’t talk this way about sex. Or anything. 

“I’ve never done anything like this before. Anything of what we’ve done.” She laughs softly, embarrassed. “I think I’ve told you that. You probably knew anyway.”

“You can say stop if you ever want to. I won’t get pissed or anything. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“You always stop before we get to what I want to do.”

“One day we won’t.”

She shifts so her thigh is against his dick and then rocks against him. “Tonight.”

“Court...”

“They’re going to be busy for a while. We’ll put the dishes in the sink and leave a note that we’re going to a movie. Pretty soon he’ll be living there and we won’t have a chance. Not a real one. And you can’t use his room to break in while he’s in there.” 

Mike knows he needs to say no. He’s pretty sure he should be able to think of a list of reasons why. Except all he can think about is how she feels against him and how her voice sounds. 

“I want you to be my first, Mike. Please?”

He doesn’t intend to kiss her in the kitchen with Bill right upstairs. He doesn’t intend to kiss her at all. Kissing her was never her intention, but he buries one hand in her hair and the other against the small of her back and does. He doesn’t stop until he feels like he can’t breathe, like he’s going to explode. Courtney sucks her lower lip into her mouth and Mike puts his head to hers. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

**

The past three girls he’s slept with have been one-night stands on the road. His last girlfriend was two years ago and Mike’s sure they didn’t really much more than like each other. He’s pretty sure like isn’t the word he should be using when it comes to Courtney. Pretty sure it’s not even close. 

The ride to his house is quiet, but the silence weights the air down. Courtney watches him, and he squeezes her hand when he sees her turn his direction. He’s trying to remember what, if anything, he has at home, or when the last time he bought condoms was. 

“I stole some condoms from my dad.”

Mike chokes on his breath and coughs for a few minutes. When he can breathe again he glances at her quickly before turning back to the road. “What?”

“My dad. I stole some condoms from him. I mean, it’s my job too, right? To be prepared? And I thought...well, I hoped. Hoped that we’d...” She’s blushing, and Mike wonders if that’s a sign that this is the absolutely wrong thing to do. “Anyway. I just thought I’d mention it.”

“Okay. Well. That’s good. Great even. I think I have some, but it’s good to know we’re covered.” Courtney starts giggling and he growls. “Stop laughing. You know what I mean.”

“Literally and figuratively.”

Mike ignores her as he parks outside his building. When he turns the car off it seems even quieter, like the regular noises of the night have disappeared. “I’ve never been someone’s first time.”

“Me either.”

“You have to promise that you’ll tell me things. What feels good. What doesn’t. If I hurt you. If...I don’t even know what.”

“Since when do we Becketts know how to shut up?”

He barks out a laugh. “Fair enough.” 

“Mike?” She grabs his hand and pulls it onto her lap then lifts it up and kisses his knuckle. “Don’t worry. I promise to be gentle.”

He shifts the balance and tugs her in and kisses her, pulling her against him. His back’s to the door and she crawls over the emergency brake and gear shift to settle in his lap, her knee knocking against the steering wheel. His hands slide up her back and he can feel the hard tips of her nipples as her breasts press against his chest. He rubs her back then brings his hands up to frame her face. “You’re ridiculous. And amazing.”

“I want to go inside.”

“Yeah.” He nods and releases her. “Yeah. We should do that.” He turns slightly and opens his door, letting Courtney crawl over him to get out. He grabs his guitar and follows her upstairs, watching her ass. Her jeans aren’t skin-tight like Bill wears his, but they hug her hips and are faded from wear. She bounces on her toes when they get to the fourth floor and he unlocks the door, hoping whatever wildlife might be living with him has disappeared into the dark corners or under his bed. 

Courtney walks inside, her hands shoved in her back pockets, her chest pushed out slightly. Mike locks the door and stands there, completely frozen. He has absolutely no idea what to do. Courtney looks around and then takes her hands out of her pockets, flexing her fingers and then rubbing her hips. “Should I get naked?”

“No!” Mike shakes his head as her face falls. “No, no. I mean...we’ll work our way to that. A lot of the fun is in getting there.”

“Oh. Right.”

He shrugs his jacket off and tosses it on the chair by his guitar. Courtney watches him with wide eyes as he comes toward her. He traces her jaw then rubs his thumb over her lower lip. Courtney’s mouth opens slightly and he pushes his thumb into her mouth just enough that he can feel the tip of her tongue against it. He pulls his hand back, her lip caught on his thumb until it slips free. She stays like that, her mouth open further than before. “I’m going to kiss you.”

“Yes. Yes. You should do that.” She nods and he tilts his head to catch her mouth. This kiss feels different somehow, and Mike thinks it might be the first mutually agreed upon and intended kiss they’ve had. His tongue slides against hers, the tip of it curving up to tease the roof of her mouth. Courtney makes a little noise against his mouth and Mike pulls back, nipping at her lower lip.

“Okay?”

“Yes. Yeah.” Her teeth catch at her lip, at the place where he bit. “More.” Mike takes her hand and leads her to the couch, pulling her down next to him when he sits. He turns slightly and slips his arm around her back, tugging her in closer. He curves his fingers around her jaw and stares at her for a moment. She blushes and ducks her head. “What?”

“Nothing. Just trying to figure out how I didn’t see you for so long.”

“Because I was a pimple-faced girl with big glasses who you had to put up with because of her big brother?”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“I like your explanation better.”

Mike smiles against her mouth, kissing her again. His chest feels full and tight like he can’t breathe and the rest of him feels like he’s all lit up. His hand moves over her shoulder, down her arm, down her side. He can feel the rough catch of her breath against his mouth and with his fingers. He traces the edge of her bra to the curve of her breast and then he palms it through her shirt, rubbing his thumb over the hard tip of her nipple. 

She shivers and arches into his touch. Mike brings his finger up and pinches the nipple lightly between it and his thumb. Courtney gasps and breaks the kiss, her head falling back slightly. Mike moves his mouth to her neck, feeling shudders running through her body as he bites and sucks and kisses, his fingers rubbing and pinching at her nipple.

“Mike.” His name comes out like a squeak and he tugs the collar of her t-shirt down, kissing the hollow of her throat. She goes easily as he guides her back onto the couch, working his way down her chest. He keeps his hand on her one breast and the other he covers with his mouth, tongue flicking against that nipple. “Oh god,” she whimpers. “Please.”

His fingers move down from her breast and her breath hitches. Her entire body tightens as he slides his hand under her shirt, tracing the trail of goosebumps that scatter across her skin. He bites at her nipple and then pulls back, tugging it with his teeth. She cries out this time and Mike releases her, pressing his head between her breasts. Her breath catches every time he breathes on her and when Mike slides his hand around to her back, she arches off the couch. Mike uses the movement to slide down, pushing her shirt up and exposing her stomach.

Her muscles are taut, and her entire body feels like a steel wire stretched to the very edge of its strength. He kisses just above her navel, rubbing his nose against her skin as he moves upward, planting kisses as he goes. Courtney keeps making sounds that go straight to his dick and Mike has to reach down and adjust himself to relieve some of the pressure. He glances up at her and her eyes are glassy, pupils huge. He can barely see the rim of brown around them, but she gives him a tremulous smile when he smiles at her. “Okay?”

She shakes her head. “I feel...like I’m on fire.”

“Is that good?”

“I don’t know.” She laughs and he kisses the base of her rib cage. “I think so? Is this how it’s supposed to feel?”

“I don’t know either. I’ve never felt like this before.” 

Her lips part and Mike moves up to kiss her again. His own shirt gets caught and so his stomach is pressed against hers, bare skin to bare skin. He groans into the kiss, deepening it. She feels soft and hard all at once, like something that he should compare to something sexy, something out of a romance novel. Mike doesn’t know anything about romance novels except the back of the ones his mom reads, and they all sound like a bunch of bullshit. 

But this. This feels real. Sounds real. Aches. “Want to touch you, Court. Want to...” He kisses her again, because he can’t put into words what he wants, what he’s feeling. Or he could, but the thought scares the fuck out of him. She kisses him back, arching up so her body is pressed tightly to him. He slides a hand under her back and unhooks her bra through her shirt, wondering if he should feel bad for mentally thanking the last girl he slept with for showing him the trick to it. 

Courtney giggles when it comes unhooked and Mike breaks the kiss to look down at her. His lips buzz from her laugh and he tilts his head. 

“What?”

“I just...” She giggles again and puts her hands over her face. Mike frowns and glances down to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong. He can see the bunched fabric of her bra through her t-shirt. He can see the dark hint of her nipples too, the peaks of them standing out in high relief. “It’s just...”

“Okay, like, can you stop laughing at me?” He pulls back and she grabs at his shoulders, holding him in place.

“I’m not laughing at you, Mike. I’m laughing because I’m pretty sure I hated you a month or two ago and now I’m all...excited and scared because I want your mouth on me and your...your dick in me. And...and it’s all new and a lot.” She shakes her head and raises off the couch to kiss him. “I’m laughing because it feels good and I don’t know what I’m doing and you just popped my bra open like you’re an old pro and what if I disappoint you?”

Mike sits back and pulls Courtney onto his lap. He can tell the minute she feels his erection pressed against her. “You’re not going to disappoint me, Court. Not ever. God, look at you. You’re beautiful and smart and funny, and if anything I’m wondering what in the hell you’re doing here with me. I’m scared I’m going to fuck this up. I’m scared it’s going to hurt and not be good for you. I’m scared too. I’ve done this before, but I haven’t ever been anyone’s first time, and it’s...it’s never been you.”

She looks at him for a long time, and Mike wants to take back every word. He’s pretty sure she’s going to get up and walk out and he’s not sure why he was even talking. Talking gets him in trouble every time. Courtney leans in and kisses him lightly, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his. “Thank you.”

“Um. For what?”

She shakes her head and pulls back, tugging her shirt over her head and dropping both it and her bra on the floor. Her skin is flushed and he’s not sure if she’s cold or embarrassed or turned on or what, but _fuck_. 

“You’re...” He’s amazed at his self-control. He never thought he had any. “You’re sure.”

She nods and cups her breasts, lifting them up. They’re small and perfect and Mike is only human. He presses his hands against hers and puts his mouth on one of them, taking the nipple against his tongue and sucking on it, rolling it and tugging on it. Courtney wriggles in his lap, pressing down against him. He sucks harder, taking more of her in his mouth. Her arms wrap around him and she threads her fingers in his hair, tugging randomly. It’s not hard and it feels good and it’s like something out of a wet dream the way she makes noises as he moves to her other breast, covering the wet one with his hand and holding it, squeezing lightly. 

“Mike. Mike.” She arches and presses against his erection, rocking into him. He grasps her hips and holds her close. He kisses her hard, tasting her shaky gasp. She’s got tears in her eyes when he pulls back and Mike’s eyes widen in panic.

“Shit. Shit. Are you okay?”

She nods. Her teeth are sunk into her lower lip. Mike reaches up and rubs her lower lip so she lets go. Her voice is soft, thick. “I’m sorry.”

His brow furrows. “For what? Why?”

“Because I...”

“Whoa. Don’t ever apologize for that.” He laughs roughly. “God. Never.”

“But I want to make you feel good too.”

“Trust me. Right now I feel pretty damn good.” He reaches up and trails his fingers over her breast again. “You feel good.”

“You know what I mean.” She ducks her head, hiding her eyes from him.

“I know. And we’ll get there. But this is good, right?” He uses his free hand to tilt her head back up so he can see her. “You like this.”

“So much. God.” 

“Good. But you want more?” He feels like he’s talking to a wild animal, like she might bolt at any second. He tries to keep any hope from sneaking into his voice, not wanting her to feel any pressure. Courtney slides off his lap and he feels a moment of panic until she reaches out for his hand. 

“I want to go to your bedroom.”

“Yeah. Okay. Yeah. We can do that.” He nearly trips over his own feet as he stands up and he has to adjust himself again. Courtney watches and then steps closer, rubbing her hand over his fly. Mike’s head falls back and his eyes roll as she squeezes. “Fuck, you keep doing that and I’m not gonna make it to the bedroom.”

“Sorry.”

“Seriously, you’ve got to stop apologizing for turning me on.” He kisses her, backing her down the hallway. Mike breaks the kiss long enough to tug his shirt off, letting it drop. 

Courtney runs her hands up his chest to his shoulders and back down to the waistband of his jeans. She bites her lip as she undoes his belt and unbuttons his fly.

Mike reaches down and stops her before she undoes the zipper. “Not yet.”

“No?”

He shakes his head at her confusing, guiding her the last few steps to the bed. He steps back and looks at her. She starts to blush, but he catches her hands before she can cover herself. He brings their hands to her jeans. He lets go then undoes the button, and she shivers at the sound of the zipper.

“Mike...”

She sounds hesitant and he stops, hands moving to her hips. “Yeah?” His own voice sounds strangled to him, but he knows he’ll stop if she needs him to. He doesn’t know how but he knows he will, even though he might end up ripping his dick off when he gets himself off.

“Can we...the lights?”

“Oh. Sure. You want them off, or like, the lamp or I think I have a flashlight somewhere.”

“Lamp is good,” she laughs.

He scrambles across the mattress, knocking three CDs and a bottle of lotion off the nightstand trying to get the lamp on. Courtney turns off the overhead light and Mike digs desperately for a condom in the drawer, pulling out three and silently thanking whoever he last had sex with for not having too much sex with him.

That thought derails at the sound of rustling fabric, and Mike turns to the sight of Courtney stepping out of her clothes. “Oh. Oh, shit.”

He reaches for her as he sits up, spreading his legs so she can stand between them. He kisses her stomach just above her navel and then to the side of it. Each kiss is slow and soft, and his hands hold her hips as he kisses the slight swell of her belly. He brings his hands over, thumbs brushing the dark hair between her legs. Courtney shivers and makes a noise, and Mike can feel the tremble beneath her skin.

“Here. Come on.” He helps her down onto the bed and leans over her. He kisses her, his hand roaming over her skin. He can feel her goosebumps as he moves his mouth to her throat so he can hear the sounds she’s making. 

She gasps as his fingers graze her thigh and her nails dig into his shoulder, but she parts her legs. The hair is damp when Mike slides two fingers through it to the hard nub of her clit. He stares at her as he touches her, watches her react to each flick and stroke of his fingers. He can barely feel the bite of her nails through the hot burn of his own arousal. Courtney’s nipples are hard and tight and her voice is hoarse and rough when she finally cries out.

“God, Court.” Mikey presses a hard kiss to her mouth before he sits up on his knees, struggling to get his pants off. He pushes his jeans and boxer briefs down to mid-thigh with one hand and reaches for the condom with the other. He holds the package with one hand and rips it open with his teeth. He knows he shouldn’t, but his other fingers are wet and slick, and drying them off would take time away from being inside Courtney.

She watches him put on the condom or stares at his dick – either way it’s hot enough that he has to squeeze the base of his shaft to stay in control. The slick lube on the condom paints his stomach as he rubs her thighs, guiding them further apart. Courtney doesn’t look away from him, though her eyes dart from his to his cock. He braces himself over her on one arm, grabbing his dick and pressing it against her clit before sliding it down. She’s wet and hot against him and then around him as he presses inside. He does his best to go slow, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself focused.

Courtney’s breath catches and she tenses, squeezing tight around him. Mike swallows hard and stops moving though the muscles in both his arms quiver. “Okay?”

She nods and rolls her hips up to his. Mike groans and thrusts, pushing inside her completely then holding as still as he can as her body clenches and unclenches around him. His breath keeps hitching in his chest and he’s breathing like he’s just done a triathlon. Not moving might be the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life.

“Mike. Mike.” She sniffs and looks at him. “Please.” She tightens around him then in a completely different way, and thrusts up. “Please.”

Mike starts moving with long steady strokes, watching her face as he fills her up. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is open and her breasts move with every thrust. Her skin is flushed and glowing with perspiration, and Mike can’t take it for too long. His rhythm changes to shorter thrusts, harder and staying deep inside her even when he pulls back. He can barely hear the soft gasps she’s making over the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears.

He pushes deep and stills, his whole body jerking as he buries his face against her neck and shudders breathlessly through his orgasm. He moves his hand to the top of her head, gently stroking her hair. They don’t move for a long time, then Mike presses a kiss to her throat, tasting the salty sweat on her skin. “Okay?”

“I don’t know.” She laughs softly, incredulously. “We just had sex.”

“Yeah. Yeah. We did.”

“Wow.”

“Wow.” He nods then pulls back to look at her. “That’s a good wow, right? Like a wow-wow. Not a wow-why did I do that, I need to get my brother to kill this guy wow. Right?”

“Good wow,” she agrees with a nod. “Very good wow. Now what?”

“Well, this is the kind of less hot and sexy part. He shifts and slides his hand between them, catching the condom with his fingers. “It might hurt too? I don’t know. Just...um, just relax?”

“Wh...” She stops speaking as Mike pulls out. Her body clenches around him and her eyes go wide.

“It’s okay. Promise.” He kisses her as he slides out, easing away from her and off the bed. “I’ll be right back. Don’t, like, run off.”

“Not sure I can even walk.”

Mike hurries into the bathroom and disposes of the condom. He ignores the mirror as he washes his hands, not sure he wants to see how he looks right then. He turns to go back into the bedroom, but he gets caught in the doorway watching Courtney in the lamplight. She’s looking down at herself, her fingers trailing over her breasts where Mike touched her. He’s not sure why it’s so hot, but it is. Simple and hot, and Mike is pretty sure he’s completely and utterly doomed. 

She glances up and catches him watching. She blushes and tugs the blanket up to cover her. Mike walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, touching her in the exact same places through the blanket. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”

“No, I’m not. I mean, I’m okay, but I’m not...”

“You’re beautiful.” Mike’s voice is reverent and that feels right. “Don’t ever say you’re not.” He clears his throat and looks at her, watching her eyes. Becketts give everything away with their eyes. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m a little sore. But you didn’t hurt me.”

“You want to stay here for a while or do you want me to take you home?” He doesn’t want her to go. At all. He’s pretty sure he’s so far in over his head he’s already drowned. 

“Is it okay if I stay?”

“Yeah.” He grabs his alarm clock and sets it for a few hours later. “You want to stay right here?”

“No.” Before Mike can react, she shifts over on the bed. “I want to move over here so you’ll lay back down.”

“I can do that.” He leans in and kisses her then lifts the blanket to slide in beside her. It’s a twin bed, barely big enough for one, so he shifts closer then tugs her into his arms, body pressed to his, head against his chest, breath fanning over his heart. He strokes her hair as he closes his eyes, letting his breath fall in rhythm with hers.

** 

Mike wakes up before the alarm, and when he opens his eyes, Courtney is sitting up on the bed next to him, facing the head of it. Her knees are pulled up to her chest and she’s still naked, and he’s pretty sure that he’s going to have to face the fact that he’s completely, stupidly in love. “Hey.”

“Hi.” She’s watching him and he wonders what she sees. He knows what he looks like when he wakes up in the morning, and it’s not pretty. Of course, he doesn’t normally sleep with someone lying on top of him and keeping him still. “Did I wake you up?”

“No.” He sits up and turns off the alarm. It’s still dark outside, clouds hanging low in the sky and reflecting the light from the streetlamps. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just kind of...” She laughs. “I don’t even know. I had sex with you. We had sex.”

Mike nods. “Yeah.” He says the word slowly, because he’s got no idea where she’s going with this. “Do you regret it?”

“What? No. God, no. It was amazing. You’re amazing.” She smiles, but her shoulders slump. “But now Bill’s going to move in here and we’re going to go back to the way we were. You pretending you hate me and me trying not to take it personally. Maybe meeting in secret in your car or somewhere. I know I shouldn’t think about the end before we’ve begun, but it seems kind of inevitable.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“I don’t want to be your secret. I don’t want you to have to lie to Bill.” She smiles and the fact that it’s sad enough to break his heart tells him more than anything that he’s head over heels for her. “But we have tonight, right? We still have that.”

“Yeah. We do.” Mike reaches out and takes her hand. He lifts it to his face and turns it, kissing her palm. “Come here?”

She nods and unfolds herself, moving onto Mike’s lap. He wraps his arms around her and presses a kiss to her collarbone. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

“We’re not going anywhere.” He lifts his head and kisses her properly, tongue pressing between her lips and into her mouth. Courtney arches into him and Mike feels his dick harden at the heat and weight of her. The earlier edge of desperation is gone, and he just kisses and touches her, wanting to feel every inch of her skin. Her hands are on his shoulders, rubbing them and never has Mike been happier about the years he spent swimming.

Mike’s hands eventually settle on Courtney’s ass, cupping her and pulling her closer. She’s hot and he can already feel how wet she is, can feel her pubic hair clinging to his dick. 

“Can you? Again? Don’t want to hurt you.” He wants to be inside her again, but he’s also ready to guide her onto the bed and taste her. He’s only gone down on a girl twice and it was weird and good both times and he’s probably not any good at it, but the thought of sliding his tongue against Courtney’s clit and inside her makes him groan against her mouth when she kisses him again. “Let me...” 

Mike lays her out on the bed and kisses her. He laces his fingers with hers and holds her hands against her hips as he moves down, kissing just above the tangle of dark hair. Courtney gasps and Mike lets her hands go, using his thumbs to part the flesh. Her skin is pink and wet and she smells like sex. Mike’s not sure if he makes a sound or if it’s just in his head when he presses his mouth to her clit. 

Courtney arches off the bed and Mike wraps his arms around her thighs, holding her as he licks and sucks. She’s moving in his grip, writhing from side to side. Hot, desperate sounding gasps match the way her body grinds down against his tongue. His face is wet, mouth slick as he licks, his tongue pushing inside her. Courtney moans and arches off the bed, the muscles in her thighs tightening around him as she comes.

Mike presses closer, lapping at her skin until she pushes him away, begging him to stop. He pulls back and wipes his hand across his mouth. Courtney’s breathing hard, her body practically shaking with every exhale. He moves up over her and braces himself, looking down at her. She’s gorgeous – flushed and mussed and her lower lip is swollen from where she’s bitten it. Mike leans in and kisses her with soft, short kisses until she gets her breath back enough to part her lips and kiss him back. Eventually she pulls back and shakes her head. “You taste all...”

“Like you.” Mike’s voice is rougher and deeper than normal. He kisses her again until she pushes him away. Mike lets her, falling back on the bed beside her. She moves over him, straddling him. He doesn’t mean to whimper, but the sound escapes anyway. Courtney reaches back to the nightstand and grabs one of the condoms. She watches him with unreadable eyes as she opens it. “Court.”

“Shh.” She licks her lips, her tongue sticking out a bit as she concentrates. Mike wants to kiss her again, but then she’s rolling the condom onto his dick and every single brain function he has goes offline. Her hand settles around the base of his dick and Mike’s pretty sure he’s never going to move again. She shifts up onto her knees and positions herself over him. 

“S-slow. Go slow. Don’t want you to hurt.”

“You’re not that big, Carden.”

“I’m too fucking turned on to even take that as an insult.”

“I can tell.” She squeezes his cock and steadies it, pressing the head against her. Mike closes his eyes at the feel of her, forcing them open to watch her face as she sinks down onto him. The world goes white behind his eyes and he’s surprised he doesn’t actually come right that second. He’s so glad he doesn’t though, because Courtney starts moving. It takes a few moments, a few strokes, for them to fall into sync. Mike places his hands on the top of her thighs, steadying her as she matches the rise of his hips with the fall of her own. It’s slow and tentative to start and it’s kind of like torture of the best kind.

Courtney’s eyes are closed as she finds her rhythm and Mike watches her breathe, watches her breasts move. It’s the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, and all he wants to do is stay like this forever. He’s not sure when he turned into something out of a fucking romance novel, but apparently he has. He rubs steady circles on her thighs and rocks his hips up to meet her downward motion.

She groans and Mike’s not sure how much longer he’s going to last. He moves his hands up to her hips, fingers digging in. Courtney’s knees dig into Mike’s sides and she starts moving faster, riding him harder. Mike arches up, holding her against him, grinding into her on every stroke. He’s breathless and his body feels like it’s going to shake apart.

She gasps and her nails dig into Mike’s forearms. Her body tightens around him and Mike can feel the hot rush of her orgasm surround his dick. He tightens his grip on her hips and fucks up into her, bathing himself in her come. It’s just a few strokes before he comes as well, sliding his arms around her and dragging her down against his chest. Her breath stutters against his chest and it’s hot against the sweat on Mike’s body.

He strokes her damp hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Should try to sleep some more.”

She nods and kisses his chest, just above his nipple. “Mike?”

“Yeah?” He sounds hesitant to his own ears, and he’s not sure why. He’s not sure what Courtney hears, but she shakes her head. 

“Nothing. Goodnight.”

**

He drops her off and makes sure she gets inside okay before driving back to his apartment. The air smells like sex and the sheets smell like her. Mike closes his eyes and breathes, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s going to do. Trying to figure out what the fuck he was thinking when he started this. 

He tosses and turns and finally gives up, showering and dragging on his sweats and a t-shirt before grabbing his guitar and heading to practice. Adam, Mike, and AJ are there, but Bill’s missing so Mike relaxes a little as he sets up. 

Bill comes in a few minutes later and slings his backpack onto one of the folding chairs, digging his notebook out of it. “I think I figured out those lyrics. Come here, Mike. Tell me what you think.”

Mike bites his lower lip and walks over, squatting down to read Bill’s chicken scratch. The words don’t quite work with the sound Mike has in his head, but he can easily see the changes to make it fit. “Workable.”

“Yeah?” Bill’s fucking smile is so proud, like he’s found the cure for cancer instead of a chorus, and Mike can’t help smiling back. Sometimes he wishes Courtney and Bill didn’t look so much alike, that he couldn’t see her in Bill’s features. 

“Yeah. It’s good. I mean, good enough for me to work with.”

Bill flips Mike off and shoves him away. “Should we try it?”

Mike nods and focuses as they all start talking, Mike playing his guitar until they’re all on the same page, and they play while Bill sings. It’s rough, but it’s better, and Mike’s pretty sure at some point it’s going to be good. Times like this he thinks they’re going to make it. It’s a scary thought, but it makes Mike’s chest swell. It also keeps them focused through the entire practice and they don’t stop until Adam’s stomach growls. 

“Okay, okay. I can take a hint.” Bill grins at them, and Mike can tell they’re all buzzed from the practice. It’s almost like Mike can see the wheels turning in Bill’s brain, the next steps and plans mapped out before them. Mike hangs back as the rest of the guys give each other a hard time while they pack up their shit. Bill starts talking to Adam and Mike sighs, putting his guitar back in the case. 

“Hey, Beckett. Can I talk to you?” Bill looks over at him, his brow furrowed. Mike’s eyes cut to Adam and he shrugs. “In private.”

“Oooh.” Adam starts making kissing noises and both Bill and Mike flip him off. He laughs as he leaves, flipping them off in return.

Bill shoves his notebook in his backpack and slings it on his shoulder. “What did you want to talk about? If it’s about the new song, I think...”

Mike cuts him off with a shake of his head. “It’s something else.”

“Is it about moving in? Because if you’re changing your mind about that...”

“It’s not. It’s. Fuck. It’s not, okay?” Mike takes a deep breath and stares down at his shoes. “I’m seeing someone. Sort of. Well, no. I am.”

“And?” Bill laughs. “You think I’m going to flip out if you’re bringing some girl home? Because I know you don’t think Christine and I are suddenly going to join abstainers anonymous.”

“It’s.” Mike blows out a breath and wants to kick something. “It’s Courtney.”

The air goes still and Mike thinks both he and Bill have stopped breathing. He’s also pretty sure that the temperature just dropped fifty degrees. “You’d better be fucking joking.”

Mike bites his lower lip and shakes his head. “No.” He clears his throat and exhales roughly. “No, man. I’m not.”

“I don’t think you understand me.” Bill takes a step forward and, even though he’s thin, gangly, and has a bad haircut, he’s intimidating as fuck. “You’d better be fucking joking.”

“I...” Mike licks his lips and refuses to look away. “I’m in love with her.”

He barely gets the sentence out before Bill’s on him, hitting Mike solidly on the jaw with his first punch then in the stomach before Mike can react. Mike gets his arms up to defend himself, but he can’t actually do anything in retribution. He tries to catch Bill’s fists, but that goes south when Bill jerks to avoid his grasp and ends up bloodying Mike’s nose. 

“Shit! Fuck, Bill!” He takes a step back and his foot hits his guitar case and he goes down hard. Bill doesn’t follow him down, but he kicks Mike hard, aiming for his kidneys. Mike squirms away and manages to get to his knees. “Enough!”

“Don’t tell me enough, you son of a bitch!” Bill takes another step forward and Mike scrambles back and gets to his feet. “My sister is off fucking limits!”

“She doesn’t want to be off limits. She wants...we want to be together. You don’t get a say.”

“The fuck I don’t.” Bill bends down and grabs Mike’s guitar case by the handle, slinging it against the room. It collides with the wall with a muffled crash. Mike grunts at the sound as if it’s another punch and Bill freezes. “Shit.”

Mike shakes his head and goes over to the case, opening it and running his hands over the guitar. He knows without looking that it’s cracked, can feel the weakness in the neck. His hands are shaking and He can feel Bill behind him. 

“Mike, I...”

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Mike rests it back in the case and snaps the clasps shut, grabbing the handle. “I gotta go.”

“Mike.”

He turns on Bill, stepping into his personal space, growling in his face. “Don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mike shakes his head and leaves, his whole body shaking with anger and shock. He hadn’t planned on saying anything. Doesn’t know why he did. Doesn’t know why he thought Bill would be reasonable. Or understand. Or anything that would indicate he gave a shit about anyone but himself. Mike tightens his grip on the handle of his case and leans it against the passenger seat, the body of it in the foot well. He slams the door harder than he needs to, and manages to get in the car before his control snaps. 

He punches the dashboard and then the steering wheel harder and harder until the horn goes off and won’t stop. He shoves the key into the ignition and starts driving, ignoring the looks he gets as he pulls onto the road. People are shouting at him and he just flips them off, driving blindly.

It’s night by the time he parks at his apartment, and the horn has faded to a weird, dying wheeze. He doesn’t remember much of the past hours other than stealing two bottles of whiskey from his parents’ house and drinking as much of them as he could. He passed out at some point, and when he woke up, he turned his head to his guitar on the seat, neck twisted and broken.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there staring. He’d reached out to touch the strings and the noise she’d made was worse than the braying horn. He’d packed her away and securely buckled the case like a coffin. He’d driven around some more, afraid to go home. Afraid Bill would be there and Mike would have no choice but to kill him. 

He leaves the guitar in the car but takes the half-full bottle of booze with him. Someone’s sitting outside his door, knees up and head down. He pulls his keys out of his pocket and Courtney looks up, her long hair falling around her face. She scrambles to her feet and then stops, eyes wide and unsure. “H-hey.”

“You been here long?”

“A couple hours.” She bites her lower lip. “Bill told me what happened.”

“Surprised you’re not locked up in some ivory tower by now.” Mike moves past her and slips the key in the lock, twisting it with more force than necessary. 

“He doesn’t get to make my choices for me. I want to be with you.” She stands back as he opens the door, still watching him. Mike can feel it like a brand. “Do you? You do, don’t you? Want that? Me?”

Mike turns around and looks at her for a long moment. He can feel the tension cracking between them like the neck of his guitar. “Yeah.” The tight band around his chest releases at the word, and Courtney’s smile flashes at him until she’s holding onto him like he might not be real and her face is buried in his neck. Mike rubs his hand down her back slowly. “Yeah.”

She’s shaking in his arms he thinks, though he might be the one that’s shaking. He eases back, but keeps his arm around her as he guides her into the apartment. She smiles at him then goes into the kitchen, and he can hear the sound of her filling the coffee pot. He wants to tell her not to bother, but telling a Beckett not to do something is like...daring them not to do it. You want something done, tell them they can’t or shouldn’t. 

Fucking Becketts.

“Your brother destroyed my guitar.”

Courtney comes in and sits on the makeshift coffee table in front of him. “I know.”

“So much for our fucking band.”

“He’ll fix it. He’ll make it right.” She reaches out for his hand and rubs her thumb over his knuckles. “I’m not condoning it, but he will make it right. I promise.”

Mike laughs roughly. “You gonna make him?”

She nods, her face serious. “Yeah. If I have to. Messing with a man’s sister doesn’t give him the right to mess with your baby.”

“He’s not a man.”

That surprises a laugh out of Courtney and Mike has to fight a smile. “Okay. Well, messing with his sister doesn’t give him the right to mess with your guitar.”

“I’m not messing with you.” Mike frowns at their hands then turns his to grip Courtney’s wrist and pull her into his lap. She goes easily and fits perfectly. Mike presses his head against her shoulder. “Might be messy, but it’s not just messing around. You know that, right?” He can’t look at her and say the words. Can’t actually think that he’s got this all wrong. 

Her fingers run through his hair and then she smacks the back of his head. “Of course I know it. You think I’d be here if I didn’t?”

“You know what I keep thinking? He’s so fucking smart and clever and shit, but this wasn’t even subtle. I fucked with his most precious possession and he destroys mine.”

“Except I’m not his possession.”

“Not sure he knows that, to be honest.”

“He’s pretty clear on it right now.” She moves to sit beside him and rubs his back in slow circles. “He’s also _really_ clear that he’s buying you a new guitar.”

“He can’t afford to do that.”

“Yeah, well, he can’t afford not to. Not much of a band if you don’t have instruments. Plus, you can’t afford it either, and he’s the idiot child who broke it.”

“Remind me not to piss you off.”

“You should have learned that by now.”

Mikey laughs, but it’s a slightly strangled sound. “I guess I have.”

“Hell hath no fury and all that.” She moves closer to Mike and rests her head on his shoulder. “So. You told Bill.”

“I did.” He exhales roughly. “What the fuck was I thinking?”

“That you should have locked the guitar case?”

“In retrospect.” He reaches out and takes her hand. “Seemed like a dick move to keep us a secret any more. I know we’re not going to really do much here once he moves in, but I want to be able to have you come over and not act like you’re just here to see him.”

“I want that too.” She rubs his thumb with hers. “He’ll probably still be a dick about us.”

“He’s always a dick.”

“Only to you, really.” She turns her head and kisses the curve of his shoulder. Mike turns toward her and nuzzles her nose with his then kisses her. Courtney smiles against his mouth. “You want to go look at guitars?”

“I want to punch your brother in the throat. But you’d probably get pissed at me if I did that.”

“Probably. I mean, I’d understand, but he is my brother. Familial loyalty and all that.”

“Shit, I’d sell my brother down the river for a piece of cake.”

She laughs and kisses him. “You know, he’s not going to come over here any time soon. He’s giving you cooling off time.”

“So he’s not as stupid as he looks?”

“But I was thinking that maybe instead of cooling down, we could heat up?” She blushes and Mike kisses her.

“You were thinking that, were you?”

“Yeah. What do you think about that? I mean...” She buries her head against his shoulder. “I am so bad at this.”

“No, you’re not.” Mike puts a finger under her chin and raises it, kissing her. “Let’s go to the bedroom, huh?”

“I could have just said that?”

“Oh, I like your way.” He gives her another quick kiss then stands up, tugging her to her feet. “More romantic.”

“I think it was more pathetic than romantic.”

“Well, compared to mine...”

“I like the direct approach.” She starts for the bedroom, pulling him along behind her.

Mike laughs, not resisting at all. “I can tell.”

**

Bill shows up at his door a couple of days later, looking past Mike to where the broken guitar is still laying on the couch. “Shit.”

“It’s a shrine. You want to light a candle? Make an offering?”

“Come on. Let’s get you a new guitar. I’ve got my mom’s car and my dad’s credit card and the promise of indentured servitude to pay off the debt.”

“Hope you aren’t expecting me to feel sorry for you.”

“No. I’m not.” Bill shoves his hands in his pockets and hunches his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I lost my head.”

“Yeah. Noticed that.” Mike grabs his jacket and his keys. “I’m going to pick something fucking expensive, you know.”

“I figured. And I’ll utterly destroy you if you hurt her.”

“I figured that.” Mike shrugs on his jacket. “I didn’t plan this. I mean, trust me, if I was going to fall for someone on purpose, it wouldn’t be your sister. I don’t usually actively try to piss you off.”

“That’s outright bullshit.”

Mike shrugs, not sure he can argue that. “I like her. Really like her.”

“I just...how did it start? I mean, you guys seemed like you hated each other. And now you’re dating.”

“Well, mostly we set off sparks. Fighting. All of that. But then she suddenly wasn’t your little sister anymore. She was this person. This separate person. Woman.”

“No. Not a woman.” Bill points a finger at Mike. “Not a woman.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You’d better not. She’s...you need to never know anything about Courtney’s woman-ness. _Ever_.”

“O...kay?” Mike draws the word out, tilting an eyebrow up. “I’m pretty sure she’s actually the one who gets a say in that, not you.”

“That’s a misconception on your part. Big one. You guys can...hold hands.”

“That’s it? Hold hands?” Mike can’t help laughing. “You and Christine are banging like porn stars and I get to hold Courtney’s hand? Seriously, dude? Courtney’s not going to be cool with that.”

“First of all, never use the words porn star in any discussion of my sister.”

“Jesus.” Mike rolls his eyes. “Let’s just go buy the damn guitar. You believe whatever you need to about me and Courtney.”

“She’s...” William rakes his fingers through his hair. “She’s the most important person in my life. I know I’m too protective, but that’s how it’s always going to be.” He seems like he wants to say more, but instead he leads the way downstairs. 

The car is outside as promised. Mike doesn’t expect to see Courtney in the back seat, but she’s there and smiling at him. He can’t help smiling back and he knows he probably looks like a world-class tool. Bill looks over at him. He isn’t quite smiling, but he isn’t frowning either.

“She wanted to come. Make sure I was nice to you. I told her she didn’t have to because I’m always nice.”

“And she’s already managed to stop laughing?” Bill slaps the back of Mike’s head, and Mike nails him with a look. “Because the nice just radiates off you.” Mike reaches out for the handle to the back door, but Bill catches his wrist in a tight grip.

“Front seat.”

“But she’s in the back.”

“Yeah. Which is why you’re in the front.”

Mike rolls his eyes and shakes off Bill’s hand, opening the front door instead. Courtney moves to the edge of the back seat, wrapping her arms around the headrest. 

“Did he give you the big brother talk?”

“Threatened my life right on schedule.”

She grins and leans back. “Good.”

“Hey!” He turns so he can see her better. “Mean.”

She leans back in and whispers against his mouth. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Bill slides in behind the wheel. “Oh no. Fuck no. You two need to shut that down right the fuck now.”

Courtney leans over and kisses Bill’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Bilvy, you’ll always be my number one guy.”

“I’d better.”

“But Mike’s a close second.” She settles back as Bill starts the car, reaching around Mike’s seat and taking his hand. “A really, really close second.”


End file.
